delusionally

My space for thoughts and things *01*

[one-piece-user-boxes]

[payakanspirit]

♯ best friend!megumi who loves the taste of your sweet cunt, especially when he knows he could treat you sooo much better than your pathetic excuse for a boyfriend. and who are you to resist an offer like that from your needy sweet best friend? twt link

the air in megumi’s dorm room was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the only light coming from a dim desk lamp that cast long, flickering shadows across the walls. for nearly an hour, megumi had been buried between your thighs, his face pressed firmly against your soaking wet heat. he was obsessed, completely consumed by the taste of you, a flavor he craved far more than he ever let on when you were just "best friends”.

you, on the other hand, were a shaking, whiny mess beneath him. your hips ever so often arched high off the bed at the overstimulation, your breath coming in ragged, desperate hitches. one of your hands clutched the dark blue bedsheets beneath you, while the other disappeared into his dark hair, fingers tangled in the soft, spiky strands. beneath the firm press of his palm against your chest, your heartbeat pounded wildly, each frantic beat impossible for either of you to ignore.

"g— gumi— you’re so mean— i can't.. nnggh! g— give me a break!" you wailed, your voice cracking. you were already sensitive, your nerves fried from the relentless attention he’d paid to your cunt for the last forty five minutes.

did megumi hear your pathetic whining? yeah. did he listen, though? nope. he continued flicking his tongue rapidly against your nub, sucking the swollen flesh into his mouth with a wet, slurping sound. as he worked, he began to hum, a low, vibrating rumble deep in his throat that echoed directly into your cunt. the sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, making your toes curl violently and your thighs tremble.

“megumi!—” you cried out.

he lifted his head just enough to eye your expression. he watched your face, the way your eyes were rolled back, your lips parted in a silent scream, and the sheer desperation written across your features. a small, smug smirk touched his lips before he fluttered his eyes shut once more, his lips pursing tightly against your cunt, creating a vacuum-like suction that pulled your clit deep into his mouth.

“you can handle it,” he muttered.

"nnngh!— oh god, gumi!" you sobbed, your voice high and needy.

he ignored your whimpers, continuing to swirl and lap at your juices. he loved how you sounded. the way you whined and begged, the way you fell apart under his touch. he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. he bet your boyfriend couldn’t break you like he could.

as the tension peaked, you let out a loud, strangled cry, your back arching off the mattress. you walls clamped down hard on his face as you erupted, a spray of fluid squirting directly onto his cheeks and chin. you shuddered, your body racking with the force of the orgasm, your fingers tightening in his hair.

as the waves slowly subsided, you gasped for air, your voice a whiny whisper. you gave his hair a firm tug, pulling his face away from your dripping cunt. "hey— gumi! g— give your mouth a break! cmooon," you whined, your chest heaving.

megumi pulled back slowly, a string of saliva connecting his lip to your pussy. he didn't look tired at all, despite it being 1:47 in the morning. okay. maybe he was tired. but for your pussy? nah. he looked at your swollen, glistening folds and then looked you in the eyes, pressing a gentle peck on your clit.

“what? don’t tell me you’re tired already.”

without wasting time, he gathered a thick glob of saliva in his mouth and spat directly onto your clit, the warm wetness sliding over your sensitive skin.

"i’m not done yet," he murmured.

you let out a soft, indignant whine, your legs falling open wider despite your words. "you’re evil. you've been down there for almost an hour.."

megumi scoffed. he leaned back in, his breath hot against your wet skin. "can’t blame a guy for wanting to eat some good pussy," he paused, his tongue darting out to lick away the spit he'd just landed on you, "does he even know how to make you sound like this? or do you have to pretend to enjoy it when he's inside you?"

you let out a pathetic, high-pitched whimper at the feeling of his warm tongue against your overstimulated cunt, your head tossing back against the pillow. "megumi.. stop.. don't say that!”

"why, baby? does it make you feel guilty?" he shifted upward, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your swollen folds, tasting the cocktail of your arousal and the remnants of your orgasm. "or does it just make you realize how mid he is compared to me?"

he looked up at you again, his eyes scanning your flushed face, savoring the conflict and the lust warring in your expression. he loved the power he had over you in this moment. the fact that while you belonged to someone else, your body was reacting only to him.

"you’re a little slut for your best friend, aren't you?"

“gumiiii—“

“tell me you want me to fuck you dumb until you forget his stupid fucking name."

taglist: @lucidsseraphim, @masterandmargerita

[calebunny]

frat brothers! Caleb & Valko x virgin! reader

tired of being a virgin, a drunken haze leads you to ask your best friends to finally step in.

Warnings/Tropes: NSFW, MDNI. Rough, Loss of Virginity, Alcohol Consumption, Praise, Squirting, Overstimulation, Fingering, Oral Sex.

The spite burning in your chest was suffocating, loud enough to drive your actions before you could even stop yourself. You let him pull you in, watching the distance close as you tried to prove a point in a drunk frenzy– anything to erase the sting of your friend’s words echoing in your mind.

Face it, no guy wants you because you’ve got zero experience, and it shows. 

But the further you went, the more aggressive the guy got with his movements, and the more you started to regret every second of it.

It was all wrong.

The stranger’s lips pressed against yours felt sickening, opening up a cold, ugly pit in your stomach. Repulsion hit you like a wave, every nerve in your body begging you to pull away. But before you could even shove the man off, a sudden force dragged him away from you instead.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

Before you could process it, a pair of arms swept you off your feet, tucking you firm and safe against a chest with a familiar warmth. 

When you looked back, you found the guy slammed flat against the wall, pinned by his collar under a very pissed-looking Valko. You blinked, turning your head up to the person currently holding you against his ribs. 

“Caleb?”

You let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. His large hand immediately slid into the side of your hair, cradling the back of your head to keep you tucked against him. 

It was all a blur, Intoxication hazed your mind, the neon lights of the party staggering your vision as you were guided away from the noise. Before you knew it, you were being moved into a different room– the familiar frathouse bedroom you’d fallen asleep in countless times before, always finding yourself snoring between your two best friends like a litter of puppies. 

Sighing, you dropped face-first onto the mattress, already dreading the impending interrogation about your recklessness tonight. You were just so upset, completely humiliated by your friends mocking you for still being a virgin. So you’d taken too many shots, and tried to prove yourself by hooking up with a stranger. 

key word: tried.

You rolled over onto your back to meet the sharp gaze of the two men towering over you. You immediately threw your palms over your face. 

“I know.”

You were used to them being overprotective; having been inseparable since freshman year, you were the closest friends anyone could be. But between you three, there had always been an unspoken insinuation that there was more to your dynamic– with your growing crush on both of them, and the dangerously comfortable ways you inhabited each other's spaces. 

But to say they were terrified of crossing that final line was an understatement. They always pulled back at the last second, leaving you confused and dazed after every touch that got a little too heated. 

To the rest of the campus, it was obvious you were taken property. Valko and Caleb made sure of it without ever saying it aloud, sharing you with none but themselves. 

Times like this, though, it was clear that fact wasn't so obvious to you. 

Valko walked over to the desk, crooking a finger in a  'come here' motion. You got off the bed with a groan and followed him, knowing better than to deny him right now. He cracked open a bottle of electrolyte water and shoved it into your hand. 

“You looked like you hated that,” he said, his eyebrow cocked up as he watched you chug the water like a lifeline. 

“The kiss? I did,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze. 

“Then why?” Caleb piped up from the other side, his jaw clenched so tight a tick formed in his cheek. “What were you thinking, kissing a random fucking dude?” 

You let out a harsh breath through your nose, the annoyance and embarrassment of the night finally boiling over. “Because I didn’t want to be a virgin loser anymore, okay!”

Both of their eyebrows shot up. Valko’s face broke into an amused smile. "What?" 

“It’s all you guys’ fucking fault anyway! Always cockblocking me–” You gestured wildly, pointing a finger at either of them.

“ –And you’d think at least one of you would man up and fuck me already! But no- I’m stuck with you two dimwits, and the rest of the campus too fucking scared to touch me!” 

Perhaps it was the alcohol, but you were being bolder than ever before, the words tumbling out before you could think. 

The two of them stood completely shell-shocked, mouths slightly agape as your sudden confession hung in the air. The room was dead silent save for the faint, muffled thumping of the bass outside the door. 

"Well damn," Caleb huffed a low laugh, closing the distance until the back of your knees hit the edge of the desk. His hands planted themselves on your waist. "If you wanted us to pop your cherry that bad, should've just said so sooner." 

And he leaned down and smashed his lips against yours. You let out a gasp against his mouth, which he drank right in, turning the kiss rough and impatient. Caleb pressed himself deeper, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips. You barely had time to catch your breath before his grip on your waist shifted, swerving your body around as a surprised yelp escaped your throat. 

Without a word, he passed you off, handling you right into Valko’s chest. Your back hit him with a soft thud. Valko’s hand cupped your chin, tilting your face up to meet his mouth instead. His kiss was different–smoother, more indulgent, taking his time to enjoy you. He pulled away for a second to drag his lips down the column of your neck, breathing you in before whispering, “Can you keep up, though?” 

He didn't give you a chance to answer. He nudged you right back toward Caleb, who caught you before you lost your balance. Caleb's arms wound around your waist, pulling you flush against himself as his mouth slotted over yours once more. 

It was dizzying, the way you were being passed between the two of them like a fucking blunt.  

When you were tossed back to Valko, his hold tightened on your hips. Before your feet could fully touch the floor, he lifted you completely off your toes, forcing you to scramble for purchase against his shirt. Three big steps towards the bed, and he dropped you onto the mattress. You landed on your butt, bouncing softly under your own weight. 

Valko immediately slotted himself in the space between your legs, hand tangling in your hair as he dragged you to his lips once more. And you felt the bed dip with Caleb slipping right behind you, chest caging you in the tight space between the two guys.

You were running out of breath, unable to keep up with their combined pace. You planted your hands against Valko’s shoulders and shoved him back, panting as you tried to pull air into your lungs. “G-guys, slow down–” 

“Should’ve thought about that before you kissed that guy.” Valko leaned right back in, completely ignoring your whines. Behind you, Caleb chuckled, his hands roaming all over your body before pausing at the swell of your chest. He pinched your nipple through your top, making you let out a high yelp. Caleb dipped his head into the curve of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “So sweet, so sensitive.”

Valko pulled back, his pupils fully dilated as his chest heaved unevenly. “I wanna see you, pup. Take it off,” he snarled. But he didn't actually give you the time to do it yourself– his hands were already tearing at your clothes, Caleb helping him slide your shorts and panties down your legs until they were kicked off entirely. 

By the end of it, you were left completely bare and vulnerable between them. And they almost lost it, Valko groaned at the sight, his hands twitching at his sides like he was exercising every ounce of control not to pounce. Caleb, meanwhile, had his knuckles turn white from how hard he was gripping your waist.

In seconds, they stripped down too, shedding their layers until they were in nothing but their boxers, their bare, warm torsos pressing tight against you. 

Caleb’s hand immediately slid down to your folds, finding you swollen and dripping from the overwhelming way they were handling you. “Fuck... cute little pussy.” 

Valko dove right into your chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples while his fingers rolled the other, breathing heavily against your skin.

Caleb whistled at how easily you were leaking all over his fingers. He experimentally pressed one finger inside, making you let out a high mewl. Grinning at how responsive you were, he pushed his finger all the way in. “Shit– Val, she’s tight.” 

“How are you planning to take the two of us like this, pips?” Caleb mused, feeling your pussy clench so tightly around his finger that it almost pushed him out. 

Valko circled your nipple one last time with his tongue, pressing a hard kiss before pulling away and wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “Just gotta break her in.” 

“Hell yeah,” Caleb muttered. He didn't waste another second before aligning a thick second finger and sliding it in as well. Your hips bucked up instinctively, but Valko’s hands clamped down on your thighs, pinning you captive and whimpering helplessly against the intrusion.

Caleb started working his fingers in a steady, rolling rhythm, his thumb grinding over your clit while his fingers poked and prodded inside, hitting a spot that made your eyebrows scrunch and your toes curl hard against the sheets. 

“Fuck. caleb- caleb.”

“I know, pretty girl. Let go.” And like your pussy had a mind of its own, she listened. Your vision went completely white, clenched tight around his hand, crying out as a wave of slick poured over his fingers. 

Caleb released his fingers, casually licking the lines of slick rolling down his hand. Valko grumbled under his breath, pouting like a kicked puppy. “Hey I want a taste too–” 

Caleb shoved his wet fingers straight into Valko’s mouth, smirking as his eyes went wide before letting out a snarl. A moment later, Caleb pulled his hand back with a hiss, inspecting his fingers to find faint bite marks left on his skin. 

Valko shot a smirk back. “Thanks for the help–” He lowered his body between your trembling thighs, his eyes locked onto yours. “ –But I prefer it straight from the source.” 

He dipped his head right into your weeping cunt, wasting no time before latching his mouth over your clit.

The way he devoured you was like a starved man, thrusting his tongue inside, swirling over your lips, his thumb working in tandem to rub circles over your clit. It was too much. And before you knew it, you were cumming a second time, squirting messily all over Valko’s mouth as your body went completely limp in Caleb’s arms.

“Shit. im- im so sorry! I didnt mean t-”

“Shut–” Valko pressed a hard, wet kiss straight against your sopping cunt. “ –up.” He pushed himself back up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and flashing a deranged smile. 

“That’s not fair,” Caleb huffed incredulously, looking at Valko like he’d just stolen the best prize. He reached around and gave your sensitive pussy a sharp slap, making you sob aloud from the overstimulation. 

“I call dibs on popping her cherry, then.” 

Safe to say, things were never going to be the same after this. 

perm: @lanalemonn @hilliserose @aliceonice

♡ Bunny's Note: Alas im doing applewolf again, how much is too much 😞🥀 ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎ 

[rosespaintedred]

Are you jealous?

summary: As soon as you get a small break from work at the Hunters Association, you rush to Skyhaven hoping to see Caleb. When your plan doesn't work out quite as you had planned, you find yourself spending some time with someone else instead. When Caleb finds out, he has a hard time controlling himself, his self-restraint finally breaking. Loosely based off Caleb's card “Verdant Wetlands”. tags: colonel!caleb, gideon mention, sxual tension, risky, making out, dryhumping, oral (fem receiving), begging, puppy!caleb, in a bathroom, pssy drunk caleb, pssy slapping, caleb loves p4nties w/c: 5.6k a/n: heyy this is my first fic in years, i luv colonel caleb sm i had to write about him :> also, english isnt my first language so keep that in mind ty!

During a short break in between missions, you managed to leave Linkon for a bit and finally visit Skyhaven, after what felt like forever. You really missed Caleb and had been looking forward to being with him once again. 

He hadn't been able to visit you as often anymore, the Fleet consumed all his time and he would be gone for weeks with barely any communication. Even when he was able to go home for a bit, he used it to get some well deserved sleep. 

You could say the same, work at the Hunters Association was hectic lately, going on missions left and right, some even waking you up in the middle of the night, leaving you with an awfully dysregulated sleep schedule. 

But not anymore, you could finally spend some time with your favorite person and decompress with whatever activity you could plan; it didn't really matter as long as you could see him and feel him close to you. 

Stepping off the train, you quickly took out your phone and dialed Caleb's number, beaming with joy as it rang, waiting impatiently for him to pick up and hear his voice, hoping to surprise him with your sudden visit. As the phone rang and rang, your smile slowly started fading. You waited until the last ring, seeing your call go to voicemail. 

“You tried to reach Colonel Xia, unfortunately I’m unable to take your call at the moment, leave a message if the reason for your call is important and I’ll get back to you.” 

You saw your reflection on your screen as it went dark, your smile long gone now and an expression of defeat taking over instead. Dejected, you let the hand holding your phone drop beside you, absentmindedly putting it back in your pocket and dragging your feet towards the station. 

It was a cold day, a warm brown jacket covered your white, long sleeve dress, while a beige scarf flowed around your neck. The tip of your nose was probably red, the chilly wind starting to numb it. You hadn't realized how cold it was before, probably because your excitement had helped you stay warm; but now you could only feel the harsh cool breeze on your skin. 

Of course he wouldn't pick up, unlike you he is actually busy, and to be fair he had no idea you were coming, you didn't tell him. 

Nonetheless, you were still hurt. The distant, indifferent tone on his voicemail felt like a bucket of ice cold water poured down on you. You weren't used to this version of him, you missed the old Caleb you grew up with, the one that cared for you deeply and was always there for you. 

Ever since reuniting with him after the explosion, you had a hard time adjusting to this new Caleb. Yes, he still looked out after you and cared for you, but there was something just so different to him. Maybe that was the image he was trying to portray now, a feared and highly respected colonel. 

You felt kind of stupid for getting all these thoughts and negative feelings, his job obviously required him to act like that, the same way yours required something similar. 

Trying to shake off all those heavy emotions you keep walking, leaving behind the station and walking downtown. Perhaps some sightseeing or sitting down somewhere could help you calm down in the meantime. 

As you kept wandering around the streets of Skyhaven, you come across a not-so-busy but cozy coffee shop and quickly rush in, as the cold outside is getting harsher by the second and you feel your extremities start to numb. You walk in, rubbing your hands together in an attempt to warm them up as you approach the counter, quickly ordering a warm drink. 

While waiting for your name to be called, you feel a strong hand on your shoulder. You quickly turn around, surprised by the sudden touch, only to find Gideon, Caleb's old friend from back at the Aerospace Academy. He gives you a bright smile and pulls his hand off your shoulder. 

“Hey! Long time no see, how you've been?” He asks, looking genuinely glad to see you. After all, he had known you for some time now, and he considered you something sort of a little sister. Spending so much time with Caleb, he probably subconsciously started to look after you the same way he did. 

“Gideon! It's been so long,” you replied, a big smile on your face. “I've been good, just a little busy with work.” 

Your talk is shortly interrupted by your name being called, you quickly walk up to the counter and pick up your beverage, excusing yourself for a moment, and making your way back to him. 

“Oh hey, looks like we ordered the same thing,” he points out, leading you towards the window counter lined with tall stools. “What a coincidence.”

You sit side by side, catching up on each other’s lives, laughing and having a good time together. You held your drink between your chilly hands, feeling them warm up slowly. It wasn't just the drink that was helping; having a kind, comforting presence made you go back to your usual cheerful self. After a rough couple of days, that was exactly what you needed. 

Although, a small part in the back of your mind couldn't stop thinking about Caleb, he was the reason you were there in the first place and you still really missed him. You could be enjoying some coffee with him and be laughing with him like this instead. 

You wondered when would be the next time you both have free schedules and be able to spend time with each other, like old times. 

Nostalgia would truly be the end of you. 

“... right now. Are you excited?” Gideon asked, looking at you with an enthusiastic expression on his face. You were so deep in thought about Caleb, you had stopped paying attention to what he was saying. A small pang of guilt shot through you, he was being very considerate listening to you and helping you, and you weren't truly present when it was his turn. 

To avoid seeming rude or inconsiderate, you quickly gave him a smile that matched his and replied, “Um… yeah! Super excited, can't wait!”

What were you excited about? You had absolutely no clue. His physical language didn't give off any hints as to what he was talking about, and you felt a bit awkward, lying right through your teeth like that. 

Gideon raised his cup up to his lips and took a sip from his drink, his eyes leaving yours and looking out the window instead. You turned your head towards the window, trying to catch a glimpse of what he was looking out for, but the streets seemed calm and uneventful. 

“Huh? Weird…” He says, putting down the cup in front of him, his body turning towards you once again, his eyes following last. He seemed to still be looking for whatever he wanted to see outside, but there really was nothing. 

It was better not to ask, maybe the thing he was looking for was something related to what he had asked you before, and you did not want to embarrass yourself like that. 

The conversation started to pick up again, this time you made sure to not let your mind wander anymore, and thankfully, he didn't bring up whatever he was talking about before. You started to have a really nice time, talking and laughing with Gideon; it really had been such a long time and you forgot how much he meant to you, your second in command when it came to playing pranks on Caleb or the only one who could save you when Caleb turned into a big meanie. 

You were laughing at some embarrassing story that happened to the both of them during their time in the academy when you accidentally spilled some of your drink on the counter, quickly reaching over to grab some napkins and try your best to clean the mess up, though by the time you were done, your hands were now a little sticky. “Wait, I’ll be right back, just need to wash my hands,” you said while getting up.

“Yeah, no problem, take your time,” he said smiling, putting his phone up, his screen lit up with an incoming call. “Need to take this anyway.”

You walked towards the restrooms, pushing open the door with your forearm as to not get the door sticky and quickly made your way inside the tiny room, pushing the sleeves from your coat up, grabbing some soap and turning on the faucet. While rubbing your hands together to lather up the soap, you hear a knock on the door. “Sorry, it's occupied!” You shout, rising off the soap and turning off the water. 

The door opens up, revealing the guy that had been occupying your every thought the whole day. His hair a little messy, probably from the wind outside, though everything else on him was impeccably in place, his look completely neat. He was wearing his colonel uniform, not a single wrinkle on it, shoes perfectly polished, and smooth leather gloves that seemed to fit his hand exactly. 

“Wha– Caleb?” You stuttered, completely taken aback. Firstly, because you didn't expect to see him at all, you thought for sure he would be completely busy today; and secondly, because he just walked into the restroom you were in! 

“What, pipsqueak? You didn't miss me?” He asked, a small hint of sadness tainted his voice and covered his eyes, making him look like an upset puppy. He inched closer to you, just towering over you, but not making any sort of contact with you, his hands glued to his side. 

“Caleb, you know that's not true,” you say in a whisper, feeling the warmth radiating off him and his gaze locked on you, making your brain short-circuit. “I have missed you so so much…”

Caleb leans down, reaching out his arms and putting them on the wall behind you, cornering you in the already cramped space. “Then how come you don't come visit me and spend time with me, like you are with Gideon?” His purple eyes boring into yours, eyebrows furrowed and his usual smile is nowhere to be found. 

“What are you talking about? I–” you mumble, but he cuts you off. 

“Don't lie, I saw you both laughing and being so close together, your hand on his arm…” he trailed off. “I haven't seen you smile like that with me in so long, pips…” 

His sad puppy look started to shift into a stern one instead, before he quickly placed his hands on your waist and picked you up, just enough to lift you up and place you on the sink. Caleb slides his hands down your hips and all the way down to your inner thighs, spreading them open and positioning himself between your thighs. 

He takes his hands off your thighs, knowing you couldn't shut them close even if you wanted to, placing them instead beside your legs on the cold tiles of the sink. 

“C-Caleb, come on! Nothing’s happening between me and Gideon!” you squeaked out, nervous by his sudden change in demeanor, you had never seen him act this way. “I wanted to come see you! I thought you were busy with the Fleet!” 

Having his face so close to yours was making you nervous and you just couldn't hold eye contact with him anymore, choosing to look to the side instead. His demeanor right now felt like back when you had first reunited with him, back when you had first met with this new persona you couldn't recognize. He looked like the boy you grew up with but something had definitely changed. 

“Why won't you look at me, pips?” his gloved hand reached out and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look back up at him. “Do I scare you?” you finally locked eyes with him again and you're met with sad, darkened eyes. 

“Is it my uniform?” he says, leaning down towards your ear, pressing himself between your legs, leaving no space between his body and yours. A tingly warmth arises from your lower abdomen, making your breathing turn a little heavier. 

Caleb drops his hand from your jaw, using it instead to tuck some of your hair behind your ear, before continuing. “Do you actually believe I can't tell what you're thinking?” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. 

“I don't know what you're talking about…” you reply, holding on to the last bit of your confidence before feeling his hips grind once against your core, the friction dragging out a whimper from your lips.

“No…? You think I can't feel it?” Caleb teased, his voice breathy and heavy, grazing the shell of your ear with his teeth before biting down lightly. You flutter your eyes shut, while your hands turn into fists, the skin he was biting suddenly feeling overly sensitive. 

“Come on, pips… say it, say Caleb is the only one you need…” the tone in his voice lowering, his words coming out in between short small breaths. “That Caleb is the only one who can make you smile…, the only one who can ever make you happy…”

Caleb moves away from your ear and his eyes find yours once again, silently pleading for an answer. He places his hand on the top of your head, caressing your head and running his fingers through your hair, slowly sliding his hand down to cup your face. 

You feel his gloved thumb carefully glide across your skin until he reaches your bottom lip, pressing on it until your lips are slightly parted. 

It feels good, it feels right. Everything has always felt right with him by your side. No one else could ever compare to him. No one had ever been able to fill the gap he left you with when you had first lost him, and you were now sure no one could ever take his place. “Yes, Caleb is the only one for me… he’s the only one I’ll ever need,” you replied, your voice a mere whisper against his thumb. 

There was a brief flicker in his eyes, like there was something still holding him back, quickly scanning your face for any hint of regret or discomfort, but the only thing he could see was your big, expecting eyes looking right back at him. His last bit of restraint breaks, finally grabbing your face with both hands and softly pressing his lips against yours. 

The kiss is slow and gentle, like he’s savouring it, like he’s been waiting forever to do it. 

His thumbs caress your face, the cold leather warming up against your burning face. 

Without a warning, Caleb catches your bottom lip between his teeth and pulls on it gently, making your mouth open, giving his tongue entrance to explore it. Once again, he starts off slow, enjoying what he had been dreaming of for years, while pressing his body against yours. 

You reach up and wrap your hands around his neck, the kiss slowly starting to deepen and get more heated, pulling on him with your arms to get him closer and help him get rid of the last of his inhibitions. You didn't want anything to keep holding him back, you were his and he was yours, it wasn't wrong if you both wanted it.

A breathy whimper escapes you mid kiss, giving Caleb indication that he was doing a good job, that you were enjoying the thing he had been wanting to do to you for so long. You liked him too. 

His body starts to lean down on you, kissing you with a newly found drive, though his larger frame was starting to make you lose your balance, making you have to move one of your arms off his neck and down to the sink to steady yourself. Once Caleb noticed your shift, he placed one of his hands on the small of your back, holding and pressing you against him once again, your back arched as he pushed you backwards, deepening the kiss. 

He was hungry, desperate, his kisses getting sloppier and less controlled. You could feel your lungs running out of air, he had stopped giving you small breaks between kisses, and he didn't seem like he would let go anytime soon. 

“Mhphm… C-Caleb…” you whine against his mouth, your words completely muffled. Your only reply was a growl back from him and his hand rubbing your back in a soothing way, like he was apologizing. His hips were grinding against you, dry humping you fully clothed through his uniform. 

Your head was starting to get dizzy, you had no other option but to put your hands on Caleb’s chest and push him off you, the action gaining you a groan back from him. While catching your breath you looked at him, his eyes hooded looking directly back at yours, his face covered in a slight flush that reached all the way to his ears, and red, puffy lips that showcased the hunger with which he had been kissing you.

“I- I think we've been in here for a little too long, Caleb…” you say while panting, trying to get down from the sink, steading yourself on his arm. “... someone will notice.”

Once your feet reach the floor once again, you turn around to look at yourself in the mirror, your main concern being someone seeing you leave the bathroom with a guy and looking completely disheveled. The lipstick you were wearing was now gone, though some remains were still smudged at the corners. Your lips looked similar to his, swollen and rosier in color, with some of your combined saliva still coating them. 

And with Caleb running his hands through your hair during your heated kissing session, it looked like you had just walked through very windy weather. 

Quickly you tried to smooth out your hair as much as you possibly could, not wanting your look to immediately expose what you had been doing for the past couple of minutes. Wouldn't it be incredibly embarrassing having to face Caleb’s old friend with a look that screamed “I was passionately making out with someone right before this!”? 

Right? Just thinking about it mortified you, and– 

“Hey! Are you in there?” 

Fuck! Couldn't Gideon have picked a worse moment to come check in on you?

You froze in place, your panicked reflection staring right back at you. Before you can reply back, you feel Caleb shift behind you, catching a quick glimpse of an amused look plastered on his face. 

Oh no, that was definitely not a good sign. 

You feel him press his back against yours, his hands grabbing your hips, and in one swift motion he has you bent over the sink. 

Looking at the mirror you see Caleb lean down beside you, his lips getting close to your ear once again. “Go on pipsqueak,” he whispers, his voice croaky and laced with desire. “Answer him.” 

As you made eye contact with his reflection, you were met with a hungry, expecting gaze. He was testing you. 

“Ye–” you start, though the words get stuck in your throat as you feel Caleb’s mouth on your neck, warm and wet against the sensitive skin. Before you know it, his teeth sink down, earning a hiss from you; the place where he had bitten you stung for a moment before his tongue darted out to soothe the wound he had just created. 

“What’s taking you so long? He’s waiting y’know?” Caleb mutters against your neck, starting to suck on different spots. 

At least he wasn't biting anymore. 

Fighting back your whimpers you muster up enough courage to speak up again, without making it obvious someone else was in that bathroom with you. “Sorry! Yes– “ a small moan escaping you, the mischievous guy behind you pushing his leg between your thighs, rubbing your still covered slit with his knee. 

“Um, oh…kay?” Gideon answered, sounding confused by your weird sounding reply, but not wanting to pry. “Look I just wanted to let you know something came up and I need to go, it was really nice seeing you.” 

Caleb did not like those last words.

His hands were now grasping at the hem of your dress, lifting and scrunching it up behind your back to keep it there, exposing your lower half to him. He placed his hands between the back of your thighs, and spread them open enough to fit one of his hands in between. One of his fingers hooks on your panties and pulls them aside, exposing your pussy and giving him an opening to slip one finger between your wet, slippery folds. 

The leather was back to being cold, making a shiver run down your spine from both the chilly sensation and the lewd feeling of having one of his covered fingers between your already needy slit. 

It was so so wrong, you couldn't be doing this with him when his friend was just on the other side of the door. You wanted to say something to Caleb, to tell him to stop or to wait for Gideon to leave, but the words wouldn't come out. 

You weren't sure if it was because you didn't want to make noise or because you actually really wanted him to keep going. 

It was such a turn on thinking about getting caught, and maybe that was exactly what Caleb wanted: for Gideon to catch you both and let him see who was occupying all your thoughts. 

“Don’t be rude and leave him hanging, he’s expecting an answer,” Caleb says, his tone sounding similar to the one in his voicemail, commanding and cold. 

You couldn't, there was absolutely no way you could talk when he had you in such an indecent position, doing something so vulgar almost in public. But, god, his authoritative tone was driving you crazy, you had to obey. 

“N-No problem, Gid,” you reply with your best attempt at a stable voice. Caleb slides in another finger, both digits reaching for your clit and rubbing it painfully slow. He’s stopped nibbling on your neck, choosing to focus instead on you, your expressions and your replies, influenced completely by him. 

“It was nice seeing you too–” you regret your words right as they leave you, it was definitely not your brightest idea. Caleb’s fingers leave your wet cunt, the two fingers of his glove coated with your juices, only to lay his hand flat and slap your pussy. “Fuck!” you whisper-scream, hoping it was quiet enough only for Caleb to hear. 

Maybe don't piss Caleb off when he’s jealous. 

And wearing his uniform.

“Yeah… uh, listen, Caleb was supposed to be coming over too, I thought I’d seen him but he hasn’t shown up yet. Can you please do me a favor and wait for him?” Gideon asks, the pace in his voice making it seem like he’s in a rush. Hopefully whatever it is he needs to attend to has distracted him from your painfully bad skills at staying quiet. “And tell him I’m sorry I had to leave in such a rush, please. Thank you!” his voice growing fainter as he dashed off. 

Oh god you did it, you survived. 

As long as Gideon didn't suspect something was going on in there, you could finally breathe. Or so you thought. 

While Gideon was talking, Caleb had used his palm to soothe the pain his slap had inflicted on you earlier. It hadn’t actually hurt that bad, the slight sting it gave you had only turned you on more, but you weren’t going to stop Caleb from rubbing your already aroused pussy with his colonel gloves on. It's not like you got the chance to have Colonel Caleb touching you in uniform every day. 

After Gideon had left, he had removed his hands off you entirely, your dress falling back down in place and leaving you feeling weirdly empty. 

You straightened your back and looked behind you, wondering why he had moved away from you. He was back to his sad puppy look from before, but this time he seemed more annoyed than sad. 

“Do you mean that? You loved seeing him?” he asked in a tone that almost made it sound like he was sulking. You had to hold back a chuckle, he would definitely not like you laughing at him, but he just looked so cute. 

“I had a nice time with him, Caleb,” you answered, reaching out to grab his face between your hands, making him look at you. He wasn't a fan of that answer, his face still sour. “But, no one could ever replace you, silly, I would always choose to spend time with you above everyone else.” 

“Plus, I had more fun with you in these past few minutes than I did with him while I had my drink,” you added. That answer he did like. If he was a puppy, the ears on the top of his head would've perked up and his tail would be wagging. 

He leaned down and captured your lips in a sweet kiss, ecstatic to finally be able to do that with you, he would make sure to be the only one to ever kiss you and make you feel good. 

His clean hand grabs one of yours and drags you towards the door. “Come on pips, let’s go home.”

You try to stop him from dragging you out, you probably were back to looking a mess and he was about to show everyone in that café what you two had been up to. You could die from the embarrassment.

What a crazy day you’ve had today. First you were so disappointed you weren’t going to be able to see the guy you had been thinking about for weeks, the one who motivated you to keep going; then, you bump into his friend and he helps boost your energy a little, later on the guy finds you with his friend and gets jealous, jealous enough to finally take the first step (and many other steps). And now, you were back at his place, most of your clothes discarded on the floor, except for your dress and underwear. 

Caleb had you against a wall, kissing you with such greed you could barely keep up with him. Not only were his kisses hungry, his hands were roaming your body like he just couldn't get enough of you. It was years and years of longing for you, and he could finally have you. 

The only item of clothing Caleb had gotten rid of was his hat, the rest of his uniform was still on. So unfair you were almost naked and he was fully clothed. 

One of his hands snakes down your body, reaching for the hem of your dress and lifting it enough to slide his hand in. His index finger hooks on the waistband of your panties and starts pulling down on it. 

“W-Wait!” you squeal, cutting off the kiss. Yes, he had already touched you but it still made you a little nervous to have him take them off. 

“Please pips,” he whines, looking so pathetic and needy, a big contrast with his colonel image. 

Caleb doesn’t wait for your answer, he gets down on his knees and puts his head beneath your dress, his hands grabbing your thighs and keeping them spread open, as he presses his nose on the wet spot on your panties. You feel him sniffing you, pushing his nose in as close as he can. The thin fabric doesn’t do much, his nose was tickling you as it slid between your still clothed folds. 

Suddenly, you feel his warm tongue lick a fat strip between your folds, from back to front, pulling out a loud moan from your throat. Your panties were a complete mess, damp from your own wetness and now Caleb’s saliva. 

You pull your dress up, enough to see him down on his knees with his face nuzzled on your pussy. 

“Please, can I remove these already? Please…” he mutters against your skin, his breath tickling you and making you shudder. His eyes look up at you expectantly, while he moves his face off your panties just a little further towards your inner thighs, peppering them with kisses and little nibbles. 

“Yes, wha–? Caleb!” 

Right as he hears you give him the green light, he pulls them down and throws them aside somewhere with the rest of your clothes, and immediately hooks your legs on his shoulders picking you up, making sure to keep a good grip on your thighs, his face right in front of your now exposed cunt. 

He keeps your back against the wall to hold you steady, though you still choose to wrap your legs around his neck for more stability. 

Wrapping yourself around him, pulling him closer. Oh, you had to be doing that on purpose.

Caleb was like a starving man, lapping at your sopping wet pussy like it was the first meal he’d had in days, licking up your juices and sucking on your pulsing clit. 

The noises that filled up the room were so filthy and obscene, loud slurping and squelching combined with his groans and moans. You couldn’t hold yours back either, you were being so noisy and it only seemed to motivate Caleb even more. 

You were extremely glad Caleb had no neighbors, otherwise he would be getting plenty of noise complaints. 

As he pulls away for a moment to breathe, you see his face: glassy eyes completely focused on what was in front of him, his mouth and chin shiny, coated in a mix of his own spit and your slick. 

“Bet you stopped thinking about Gideon now, right?” he asks, finally looking back up at you. “No one else can make you feel this good.”

“Did you have a rough day today with the Fleet?” you ask him back, curious about what had him so worked up. Maybe he had a bad day. 

“Are you really thinking about them right now?” His expression tells you he might be a little ticked off by your question. “The person under the colonel’s command right now is you. Watch your mouth.” 

“And when the colonel asks you a question, you answer.”  

Something definitely pissed him off in the Fleet, and then the whole thing with Gideon only added more fuel to the fire. “Yes, colonel, no one could ever make me feel good except you” you answer him, running your fingers through his hair, pulling slightly on it before continuing. “I cannot think about anyone else but you, my mind is only focused on my Caleb.” 

That was exactly what he needed to hear. “Good girl, you know I’m only taking care of you, sometimes it feels like you forget your manners.”

His head dives back between your thighs, devouring your needy cunt and making a big mess. 

You start feeling more and more desperate, that funny feeling in your lower abdomen only growing. Your hips move a little, attempting to grind against Caleb’s face, but his grip on you is a little too strong. Surely you’ll end up with bruises on your thighs. 

“Please, cum on my face, I need it,” he whines against you, his tongue darting out and slithering into your entrance, his nose pressing slightly on your clit. 

His words drive you over the edge, fingers grabbing onto his hair and pushing him closer, right before you feel your orgasm hit you. In a way you kind of rode his face before cumming right on it. 

Caleb was still busy licking you up, completely entranced with it. You were more sensitive now that you had climaxed, shuddering with every taste. 

Your thighs were still shaky after that intense orgasm, and now that Caleb was putting you back down, you were worried you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself stable enough to stand. 

Almost like he was reading your mind, Caleb picks you up bridal style and carries you all the way to the bathroom, placing you on the edge of the bathtub, and turning on the faucet. 

“You did so good for me pipsqueak, you were so perfect,” he praised, looking at you with a kind smile on his face and a hand reaching out to caress your face. “Thank you, for letting me do this with you, you don’t know how many times I’ve imagined this.” 

His words made you feel warm inside and helped reassure you that he’s been wanting and longing for you the same way you have been wanting him for some time now. Though there was still something bothering you…

“Um, Caleb… you helped me finish but I didn’t even get to touch you.” 

His gaze softened as he replied. “Trust me pips, anything you do to me is perfect, I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed watching you melt in my arms.” 

“And who says I didn’t finish?” he adds, looking a little shy. “Watching you panic in the café was enough for me, you looked so pretty getting ruined by me in there.” 

You give him a playful punch on the arm, a light blush creeping up your cheeks. 

For others he might seem like the cold, distant, not to be messed around colonel, but to you he was the boy you had grown up with, the one who knew everything about you and was always looking after you. 

“Let’s clean you up too, Caleb,” you said mischievously as you reached your hands out to grab the waistband of his pants. He does not stop you. 

[buckets-and-trees]

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[reilemon]

In His Arms

♡︎ synopsis: Jet-lagged and wide awake long past midnight, you let Valko invite himself over to keep you company. What starts as a friendly, playful hangout slowly turns into something much more intimate.

♡︎ pairing: Valko x fem!reader

♡︎ tags: friends to lovers, making out, dry humping, use of 'sweetheart' 'baby' 'pretty girl', cowgirl, creampie ofc

♡︎ word count: 8k

♡︎ a/n: After the announcement we got last week, I ofc had to write something for Valko. I hope you like how I wrote him. It took me over 8 hours to edit this fic, so if you don't like something or if there are any errors, I don't wanna know <3

♡︎ I wanna thank @unintentionalseductress for helping, and my beta reader its-de who doesn't have an account anymore (🙄).

divider by @anitalenia

The glow of the television washes the living room in soft, shifting light, some familiar comfort show murmuring in the background as you sink deeper into the corner of the sofa. The apartment still carries that faint in-between feeling that always follows a trip, your half-unpacked suitcase sitting by the wall, your carry-on slouched near the entryway. You scroll through Moments without really seeing much of it, your thumb moving on autopilot as photos and captions blur together, and when your eyes flick to the time in the corner of the screen, a quiet sigh leaves you – it’s past midnight. You only got back yesterday, but it annoys you that your body still refuses to remember what time zone it belongs to.

With a small frown, you toss your phone beside you, only to reach for it again a few seconds later. Sleep feels nowhere near, but so does doing anything useful. Your gaze drifts back to the screen, catching on the photo you posted from the trip a few hours ago. For a moment, you just stare at it, thumb hovering near the comments before you see a new notification at the top of your screen, and your breath catches.

Valko.

You stare at his name for a second before tapping on the message, your pulse giving one traitorous flutter as the chat opens.

‘Why are you still up??’

Your finger lingers above the keyboard, a smile already tugging at your lips, before you type back.

‘Why are you up?’

His reply comes quickly.

‘I asked you first.’

A quiet laugh slips out of you.

You shift further into the corner of the sofa, glancing toward the television even though you are no longer paying attention to whatever scene is playing out on the screen.

‘I’m still a little jet-lagged. Can’t sleep.’

For a few seconds, nothing happens.

Your thumb brushes the edge of your phone as you stare at the screen, suddenly wondering whether that sounded too flat. Maybe you should have added something else. Maybe –

Another message appears.

‘Then can I come over and keep you company?’

You sit up so quickly the blanket pooled over your legs slips halfway to the floor.

For a moment, you can only stare at the words – it’s such a simple message, but the thought of Valko here, in your apartment, at this hour, sends a rush through you that makes it impossible to stay curled up on the sofa like nothing happened.

You try to sound casual as you type back.

‘Sure.’

His answer appears almost immediately.

‘I’ll be there in twenty.’

Your eyes widen.

Twenty?

You glance down at yourself, at the pajamas you changed into after your shower. You push yourself off the sofa, hurrying to the bathroom to make yourself more presentable.

By the time you step back into the living room, changed into your new loungewear – an oversized sweater and a pair of shorts – and a light layer of makeup, your heartbeat has still not quite calmed down.

And then you nearly jump out of your skin.

There, just beyond the glass, Valko is already waiting outside on the balcony.

Your hand flies to your chest before you let out a quiet breath, your nerves settling almost as quickly as they spiked. What did you expect? Of course he used the balcony again, like it is a perfectly normal substitute for a front door.

You step closer and slide the door open. Before he can even get a word out, you point toward the entryway and try your best to sound serious.

“You need to immediately take off your shoes and put them by the front door like any other normal person would.”

A grin pulls at his mouth, and a soft chuckle slips from him as he steps inside. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” you say, with as much dignity as you can manage, even though you already feel far too giddy to properly stay in character. “Those are the rules.”

He does exactly as he’s told, walking over to the front door to slip off his shoes and leave them neatly where they should be.

You don’t really get a chance to say anything before he closes the distance between you and pulls you into a hug.

It’s warm and almost a little too tight, the kind of hug that steals your breath for a second, but you don’t care, not when his arms are around you like this. You tuck your face against his chest, breathing him in, and something in your chest loosens.

You missed this. Two weeks wasn’t even that long, but the moment his arms close around you, it hits you how much you’d been craving this exact feeling. The solid warmth of his body, the way he hugs like he means it, the faint familiar scent of his skin.

You squeeze him a little tighter, hoping he can’t feel how reluctant you are to let go.

“I missed you,” he murmurs against the top of your head.

A smile presses against his chest.

“I’m happy to hear that,” you say softly.

His arms loosen just enough for him to pull back and look at you, though his hands still linger at your waist.

“Only happy to hear that?” he asks, head tilting just a little. “You didn’t miss me at all?”

Your heart gives another hard, hopeless thud.

With the way he is looking at you, warm and teasing and still standing too close, it’s hard to hold onto any version of coolness for very long. So you say nothing, only glance away as if that will somehow hide the fact that your pulse is stumbling all over itself.

When he finally lets you go, the loss of his warmth feels immediate. His gaze flickers over you. It’s brief, almost nothing at all, but you catch it anyway – the quick dip of his eyes, the split-second pause that lingers just a touch too long before he looks back up.

Heat stirs low in your stomach.

If he noticed the bare stretch of your legs beneath the sweater, he does not say it.

Then his gaze drifts past you, over the living room.

You follow it, and only then do you properly take in the small signs of the last two days still scattered around the apartment. It’s not a mess, but it’s enough to make you realize, with a small jolt of horror, that while you had been busy changing, fixing your face, and deciding whether those shorts were too much, it had not once occurred to you to make the place look more presentable.

Valko glances back at you, amusement already tugging at his mouth. “You really made yourself at home.”

You stare at him.

Then at the open suitcase, then back at him.

“I – ” You stop, because there is truly no dignified recovery from this. “I just got back.”

His laugh is soft and boyish, bright with amusement, and before you can fumble your way into a proper defense, his hand comes up to rest lightly on your shoulder.

“I’m teasing,” he says. “Relax.”

Something in your chest loosens at once, though the embarrassment still lingers warm at your cheeks.

“You’re annoying,” you mutter, without much conviction.

He only grins and walks past you toward the sofa, entirely too pleased with himself, and drops down onto it, one arm spreading along the backrest.

You stand there for a second, trying not to think about the fact that he’s in your apartment, at almost one in the morning. Instead of sitting down beside him, you linger on your feet and start folding the few clothes left draped over the armchair, because you need something to do with your hands.

For a little while, the conversation comes easily – you ask him what he was doing up so late, and he tells you he got caught up researching something and lost track of time, and then he asks you how the trip was. As you smooth one of the shirts between your hands, you tell him that it was beautiful, that you enjoyed it more than you expected, that you and your friends managed to explore a few cities in between all the wedding preparations, though by the end of it you were exhausted from helping with everything. Even so, you admit that it had been worth it, because seeing your friend that happy, that deeply in love, had made all of it feel strangely tender and a little overwhelming in the best way.

The words trail off there for a second, because the memory rises too clearly, your friend smiling through tears, music drifting through warm evening air, the soft gold of the lights, the feeling of standing just outside someone else’s happiness and being moved by it anyway. You pause with the folded fabric still in your hands. When you look up, Valko is already watching you in that way of his that makes it seem like he notices more than he lets on.

So you shake yourself out of it before the moment can linger too long, and with a softer laugh, you steer the conversation somewhere lighter, telling him that the food alone had probably been worth the trip, and that you would have enjoyed it even more if you had not managed to spill some of it on your dress before the night was over.

“That’s a shame,” he says. “You looked beautiful.”

A soft flutter moves through your stomach, and for a brief second, you remember the small rush of giddiness you felt earlier when the notification popped up and you saw that he had liked the photo. Heat rise to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you murmur.

You clear your throat softly and glance toward the suitcase.

“Oh, right,” you say. “I almost forgot.”

His brows lift a little as you cross the room and crouch beside the half-open case, pushing aside a few last things until your fingers find what you had tucked in carefully. When you straighten again, you are holding a small sachet of dried flowers and a box of chocolates.

Valko watches you come back toward him, his expression shifting into mild confusion. “What’s that?”

You stop in front of him and hold the two things out. “A gift for you,” you say, “The flowers are from a little shop near where we stayed,” you explain. “They smelled really good, and they made me think of you. And the chocolates are from a local chocolaterie.”

A quiet breath leaves him, almost like a laugh, though there is something more touched than amused in it.

“That’s... really nice of you,” he says. “Thank you.”

You shrug. “It’s nothing.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not nothing.”

Before you can answer, he reaches for you.

His hand catches your wrist gently and tugs you closer, and the next thing you know, you are half stumbling onto the sofa as he pulls you down beside him and gathers you into another hug, and a startled little laugh slips out of you.

His cheek brushes your temple, and then his lips do too. “You’re sweet,” he murmurs.

For a moment, you simply let yourself stay there, tucked against him on the sofa.

“So,” he says, leaning back, “are you feeling sleepy yet?”

You shake your head. “Not at all. I’m wide awake.”

His gaze lifts toward the digital clock on the wall, and the faint crease that appears between his brows makes you want to laugh a little. “It’s past one,” he says, glancing back at you. “That’s a problem.”

You tilt your head. “Is it?”

“Yes,” he says, with enough seriousness to make the corners of your mouth twitch. “It is. We need to get you to sleep.”

Your lips pull into a small pout. “But you said you wanted to keep me company.”

His expression softens with amusement. “I do want to keep you company, but you should really get your sleep sorted out.”

The pout lingers, growing just enough to make him narrow his eyes at you like he already knows you are about to be difficult on purpose.

“So you said you missed me, and now you’re trying to get me to go to sleep. Rude.”

Valko looks ready to answer right away, but then he stops. His mouth closes again, and something shifts in his expression – a glint of mischief appears in his eyes so suddenly and so familiarly that you know you’re in trouble.

“Oh,” he says slowly, his grin beginning to spread, “so that’s what this is?”

Heat starts rising before you even know where he is going with it.

“Are you saying you missed me too?” His smile widens. “You just want to spend more time with me. Is that what you’re saying?”

Your whole face goes hot.

For a moment, you can only stare at him, feeling the burn spread across your cheeks as your mouth opens and closes once, then again, with absolutely nothing useful coming out. Valko’s grin only widens at your silence, clearly delighted with himself, and before he can say anything worse, you reach up and grab his cheeks between your fingers, squishing them without mercy.

“Ow, ow, ow,” he protests, though the laugh in his voice ruins any real attempt at sounding injured. “No need for violence!”

You let go, trying to look far less flustered than you feel, while he rubs at his cheeks with both hands and gives you a faint little pout that does nothing to make him less smug.

“Well,” you say, refusing to let him have the last word so easily, “you’re awake at this hour too, so why don’t you go to sleep?”

He leans back into the sofa, still rubbing one cheek as if you have truly wounded him, and lets out a thoughtful hum. “You know,” he says after a moment, “you’re right. The research I was doing didn’t help. My brain is still working through it, so I should probably try to relax too.”

His gaze drifts around the apartment then, over the sofa, the blankets, the cushions, and when he looks back at you, there is something almost casual in the way he says, “I can stay here, if you want. I can sleep over and take the sofa. Your apartment is cozy, after all.”

Your heart gives a quick, sudden flutter.

Then he pauses, glances toward the half-open suitcase by the wall, and adds with a grin, “Even with all this mess around.”

You smack his shoulder and he only laughs, like he had been waiting for exactly that reaction.

“Well,” you say, trying, and failing, to hide your smile, “if you think the sofa will be comfortable enough, then sure. You can stay over.”

Before he can find something else to tease you about, you pat your hands against your thighs and start to stand up. “Okay, then,” you say sweetly, already turning away. “Goodnight.”

Valko’s hand catches your waist before you get more than halfway up, stopping you without any real effort. A soft, amused laugh escapes him, like he knows exactly what you’re doing.

“No, no, no,” he says, gently pulling you back down beside him. “Now we both have to help each other fall asleep.”

You glance at him, unable to keep your smile from slipping through. “Oh, so that’s how it is?”

“That’s exactly how it is.”

Valko grabs the blanket you’d been using and spreads it over both of you. “We can watch whatever you had on,” he says, nodding toward the TV.

You settle deeper into the sofa, close enough that your knee brushes his beneath the blanket. For a while, neither of you says much. Then, slowly, his arm slips along the back of the sofa and curls around your shoulders, drawing you gently against his side – and you can’t help but lean into him.

At one point, you see him nuzzle lightly into the blanket – that sweet, familiar habit of his that always made you smile.

The episode plays on. A few small comments pass between you, easy and low, but gradually his body grows heavier against yours. His head tips until it rests lightly on top of yours, and his breathing slows into deep, even breaths.

You go still, listening.

A smile tugs at your lips when you carefully tilt your head to glance up at him.

His eyes are closed.

So much for his very serious plan.

Carefully, so you do not jostle him too much, you lift a hand and give his arm a small nudge. “Hey,” you murmur. “You’re gonna hurt your neck like that.”

He makes a soft sound first, then shifts against you, his cheek brushing against your hair before his eyes crack open only halfway. There is a moment where he looks thoroughly confused, caught between sleep and waking, and then his brows draw together faintly as if he is trying to remember where he is.

“Hey…” he mumbles, voice drowsy. “I’m supposed to be the one helping you sleep.”

“You’re doing a terrible job,” you whisper back, smiling as you say it.

He exhales a sleepy, half-formed laugh and instead of pulling away, sinks closer, his arm tightening around you.

You stay quiet for a moment, letting the comfortable silence settle between you. Then Valko’s voice breaks it, barely more than a murmur when he asks, “Did you miss me?”

The question is simple, stripped of any teasing. For a second, you just look at him – at his sleepy face, at the hopeful, searching look in his eyes.

“Yes,” you say softly. “I did.”

His arm tightens just slightly around you.

“I was really happy to see you tonight,” you add after a moment. “I know it was only two weeks, but it felt longer than that. And with everything getting busy again soon...” You trail off, then glance up at him. “I just wanted a little more time with you, I guess.”

Valko is quiet for a moment, his thumb brushing slowly against your side. Then he shifts slightly, turning more toward you. His gaze drops to your lips for a heartbeat before returning to your eyes, and the air between you feels suddenly heavier, sweeter.

His other hand lifts slowly, and when it settles against your upper back, the touch sends a small shiver through you. Then his hand slides higher, fingers spreading gently at the back of your head, cradling you there. You feel yourself drift closer, and he does the same.

Then his lips press against yours.

The kiss is soft and warm and careful. You melt into him. One of your hands holds onto the fabric of his hoodie, your body pressing closer of its own accord as happiness blooms through you so suddenly and so completely it almost feels unreal.

When your lips part, neither of you moves far.

Then he looks at you again, his gaze is softer than before but clearer too.

“I like you too much to pretend this is nothing,” he says, his voice soft and unguarded. He holds your gaze for another second. “Tell me if this is what you want too.”

Your answer comes easily. “I do.”

A small smile touches his mouth, sweet and a little disbelieving.

Then you lean in and kiss him again.

The hand at the back of your neck stays steady as he kisses you, and when your fingers slide from his chest to curl around the back of his neck, his breath catches softly against your mouth.

His mouth parts against yours, and when your tongues meet, the sensation is warm, slow, and so intimate it makes a deep shiver run through you. The slide is unhurried at first – soft, wet strokes that make heat bloom low in your belly. His tongue brushes against yours in ways that make your toes curl and your thoughts melt away. Then he gently catches your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a soft, teasing nibble before soothing it with another slow pass of his tongue.

You make a small, helpless sound into his mouth, pressing closer, and he answers with a low hum that vibrates through you. The kiss grows deeper, more consuming, but never rushed – every stroke of his tongue leaves you dizzy, aching in the best way, your body melting even further into his hold.

When the kiss finally breaks, you stay curled against him, forehead resting lightly against his, your breaths still uneven.

Neither of you moves for a long moment.

Then you pull back to look at him. “The sofa’s not that comfortable. You can… sleep in the bed with me. If you want.”

His eyes soften, that small smile returning. “I’d like that. A lot.”

While he heads to the bathroom, you slip into your bedroom and freeze for a second. The bed is still a mess from earlier – clothes scattered everywhere from when you’d frantically tried on different loungewear before he arrived – your cheeks burn at the evidence of how much you’d wanted to look nice for him.

You move fast, scooping everything up in armfuls and jamming the pile into your closet. Then you quickly change into your own pajamas: a loose shirt and flowy shorts. From the back of your closet, you pull out the biggest oversized t-shirt you own, with a goofy graphic and a band’s name splashed across the front.

By the time Valko returns from the bathroom, you’re already settled on the now-tidied bed, heart fluttering.

You hold the oversized shirt out to him. “Here. It’s the biggest one I have.”

He takes it from you, eyes crinkling with amusement as he reads the front. “Nice choice,” he teases. “Didn’t know you were a fan.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up and just put it on.”

Instead of stepping out, Valko stays right there in front of you. With that easy confidence of his, he reaches back and tugs the hoodie off in one smooth motion. The movement pulls his t-shirt up slightly underneath, revealing a glimpse of his toned stomach and the sharp cut of his hips before the fabric falls back into place. He peels that off too, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

Broad shoulders, the hard strength of his arms and chest that you’ve felt against you so many times, now fully on display in the soft glow of your bedroom lamp. Your gaze traces the lines of his body before you can stop yourself, lingering on the way his muscles shift as he unfolds the oversized shirt, then dipping lower to the faint trail of hair on his lower stomach.

Then he unbuttons his jeans.

The soft sound of the zipper feels impossibly loud in the quiet room. He pushes them down his hips and steps out of them, leaving him in just his boxers. The fabric clings to the firm lines of his thighs and the unmistakable outline underneath, and your face burns. You know you should look away, but you can’t.

Valko catches you staring.

A knowing smile curves his mouth, “Enjoying the show?”

You immediately avert your gaze. “No.”

You turn off the last light and climb into bed.

He chuckles softly and finally pulls the t-shirt over his head. A moment later he joins you, pulling the blanket over both of you as he settles on his side facing you.

For a second, you just look at each other in the low glow of moonlight from the window. Then he reaches out, sliding an arm around your waist and drawing you closer until your bodies press together again.

“You okay?” he asks softly, the same careful warmth in his voice from earlier.

You nod, tucking your face against his chest, breathing him in. “Yeah.”

He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head… then another to your forehead… then, when you tilt your face up, to your lips.

This kiss starts slow and sweet, like the first one, but the closeness of the bed changes everything. Your hands find his chest again, sliding over the soft, worn fabric of your own shirt on him. He tastes like toothpaste, and the warmth of his body pressed against yours under the covers makes your head spin. One of your hands drifts up to the back of his neck, fingers threading gently into his hair, while his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you even closer until your legs tangle together.

A soft sound escapes you when his hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, palm warm and broad against the bare skin of your lower back. The touch is gentle, almost reverent, but it sends a slow shiver through you all the same. He pauses there, thumb stroking small circles against your spine, as if checking whether you want him to stop.

When you press closer instead, he lets his hand explore further, sliding up the curve of your back, mapping the warmth of your skin like he’s been wanting to do this for just as long as you have.

The kiss breaks only so you can both catch your breath, but his mouth doesn’t go far. He trails soft, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, then lower to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. When his teeth graze there lightly, your breath hitches.

“Still okay?” he whispers, voice husky now, lips brushing your skin with every word.

“Yes,” you manage, a little breathless. “Don’t stop.”

Valko makes a low, pleased sound deep in his chest. His hands slide to your waist, and with gentle strength he rolls you both over so you’re on top. He helps you settle, guiding your legs until you’re straddling his hips.

For a moment you brace yourself on your hands, hovering just slightly above him. Your heart is racing – nervous, excited, and suddenly worried about settling your full weight on top of him.

Valko looks up at you. One of his hands stays on your hip while the other smooths slowly up your back.

“Come here…” he murmurs. “All of you.”

When you hesitate for half a second, he adds gently, “Just relax.”

Carefully, you lower yourself until your full weight rests on him. The moment your chest presses fully against his, a quiet sigh escapes both of you. He feels so solid beneath you – the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his skin, the firm strength of his body supporting yours so easily. Your legs settle on either side of his hips, and the intimate press of him right between your thighs makes heat bloom low in your belly.

Valko’s arms wrap around you immediately, one hand splaying wide across your lower back, the other sliding up between your shoulder blades to hold you closer. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a deep inhale, breathing you in.

For a long moment you just stay like that – bodies aligned, hearts beating against each other. Then he gently nudges your face with his, and you tilt your head down to meet him.

His lips move against yours, and when the kiss deepens, it happens gradually – tongues brushing, mouths opening wider, breaths growing a little heavier. The weight of you on top of him, the way your bodies fit together so completely, makes everything feel more intense. You can feel the hard line of him pressed right against your core, and the sensation sends little sparks of pleasure through you with every tiny movement.

Still a little shy, still a little uncertain, you roll your hips in one slow, experimental movement. The friction drags right where you need it most, pulling a soft, involuntary sound from your throat. Valko groans – low, rough, and completely unguarded – the sound vibrating against your mouth. His arms tighten around you instantly, and the way he pulls you down against him makes it clear just how much he felt that.

“Fuck…” he breathes against your lips. “Do that again.”

Emboldened by his reaction, you roll your hips again, grinding down against him. The pleasure sparks sharper, deeper. You can feel every inch of him through the thin layers of fabric separating you, and the way his body responds – the way he twitches underneath you – makes your stomach flutter.

Valko meets you on the next roll. He rocks his hips up into yours in a slow, deep rhythm, pressing firmly against your core with each movement. His hold on you never loosens – he keeps you flush against his chest, bodies moving together in a slow, rolling grind.

The kiss grows sloppier, hotter – tongues slide deeper, mouths open wider, little wet sounds mixing with your shared breathing. You feel his heartbeat hammering against yours.

“You feel so good on top of me,” he murmurs. “Keep moving just like that, baby.”

Valko’s hands are everywhere. One stays anchored on your hip, guiding your movements, while the other slips under your pajama shirt, palming the soft skin of your back, then sliding down to squeeze your ass. He pulls you down harder against him on every roll, making sure you feel exactly how hard he is.

Then his hand moves between your bodies.

He presses two fingers against the front of your shorts, right over your core. The moment he touches you, you realize just how soaked you are. The fabric is warm and damp, clinging to you, and the pressure of his fingers makes the wetness even more obvious. A flush of embarrassed heat rushes through you, but it only makes you ache more.

Valko groans deeply into your mouth, the sound raw. “You’re so wet,” he murmurs. He rubs slow circles over the soaked fabric, pressing just right against your clit through the layers. The sensation makes your hips jerk, a sharp little whimper escaping you.

He pulls back from the kiss just enough to look at you, breathing hard. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, but there’s a flicker of hesitation there too. His throat works as he swallows, and when he speaks, his voice has the slightest tremble in it.

“Still okay?” he asks, fingers still gently pressing against your soaked shorts. He pauses, searching your face. “Can I…?”

You nod quickly, cheeks burning. “Yeah,” you whisper, barely audible. “Please.”

A soft, relieved breath escapes him.

He shifts just enough to reach between you. With one hand, he tugs his boxers down far enough to free himself, his cock springing up hot and heavy against your inner thigh. With the other, he hooks his fingers into the crotch of your pajama shorts and panties, tugging the soaked fabric to the side. The cool air hits your slick, exposed folds for only a second before the blunt, burning heat of his tip presses right against your entrance.

The slight sting of his girth against your sensitive opening makes you inhale sharply. Still, your thighs tremble as you fight the instinct to sink down all at once.

Valko’s eyes never leave your face. His breath is shaky, his grip on your hip almost bruising as he visibly holds himself back from thrusting up.

“Easy, baby,” he murmurs, voice low and strained. “Just relax… I’ve got you. Trust me.”

He rocks his hips up in the tiniest, careful movement, letting just the head slip inside you. The stretch is intense – a burning, aching fullness that makes your mouth fall open on a quiet, broken sound. You feel every thick inch as he slowly works you open, his eyes locked on yours the entire time, watching every flicker of sensation across your face.

Another shallow thrust, and he sinks a little deeper. His hand on your hip keeps guiding you down slowly, patiently, even as his own breath trembles and a low groan escapes his lips. You can feel how much he’s holding back – the tension in his arms, the way his fingers dig into your skin, the way his cock twitches inside you with the effort of going slow.

He presses his forehead to yours, nuzzling your nose, his voice dropping to a whisper between heavy breaths.

“Just a little more… that’s it. You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

He keeps guiding you with those slow, shallow thrusts, working himself deeper. Each gentle push stretches you further, the thick heat of him dragging against your walls in a way that makes your breath hitch and your fingers curl against his shoulders. The slight sting is still there, but it’s slowly melting into something warmer, fuller, more overwhelming.

Finally, with one last careful roll of his hips, he bottoms out completely.

A soft, broken sound escapes you as he fills you to the hilt. Your walls flutter around him, clenching instinctively at the overwhelming sensation of being so completely taken.

Valko goes very still beneath you, breathing hard against your neck.

He whispers your name. “Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?”

You take a shaky breath, then nod against his shoulder, melting a little more in his embrace. “I’m okay,” you murmur, voice soft and a little breathless.

The tension in his body eases at your words. He pulls you even closer, if that’s possible, until there isn’t a single inch of space left between your bodies. Your breasts press against his chest, your stomach against his, your thighs snug around his hips.

“Just stay like this for a moment,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “Let me feel you… all of you.”

You melt into him completely.

He starts kissing you again – first pressing his lips to yours, tender and sweet. Then to your flushed cheek. Then along the line of your jaw. When he reaches your neck, he lingers there, nuzzling into the sensitive skin with a deep inhale, breathing in the scent of you as his lips trail soft, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your throat. Every kiss sends warm little sparks through your body, making you shiver and clench around him.

You feel completely surrounded by him. He makes you feel soft and safe and wanted in a way you’ve never quite felt before.

After a few long, still moments of just feeling each other, Valko starts to move.

He rolls his hips up in one slow thrust, pressing himself even deeper inside you. The drag of his thick length against your walls pulls a shaky moan from your throat. He does it again, and again – careful but steady, letting you feel every inch as he fills you completely with each roll.

You start moving with him.

Your hips begin to roll in a slow rhythm, grinding down to meet his upward thrusts. The pace is yours, and he lets you set it. Every time you sink down onto him, his cock grazes all the right spots inside you, sending sparks of sharp pleasure through your core. You can feel how wet you are – how your slick coats him completely, making every slide smoother, wetter, hotter. You angle your hips just right so that with every downward roll, your clit grinds against his pelvis. The added friction makes your thighs tremble. Pleasure builds fast and heavy, coiling tight in your belly with every movement.

You can’t stop looking at him.

Even in the low, dim light of your bedroom, he looks devastating. His eyes are heavy-lidded, dark with lust, but locked on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a single detail. His lips are parted and glistening, soft groans and quiet curses falling from them every time you sink down on him. His hair is slightly messy from your fingers, and the way his jaw clenches when you roll your hips harder makes your heart stutter.

You roll your hips faster, chasing that building pleasure with every grind of your clit against his pelvis and every deep stroke of his cock inside you. The slick sounds of your bodies meeting grow louder, wetter with every movement. Your walls flutter and clench around his thick length, coating him even more with your arousal as the pressure inside you coils tighter and tighter.

A broken moan of his name slips from your lips – “Valko...” – raw and needy. The sound of it makes your cheeks burn – you feel suddenly exposed like this, riding him so shamelessly, your voice sounding so desperate, your body moving on instinct. The wave of pleasure is cresting dangerously close, and the intensity of it makes you shy for a moment.

You duck your head, hiding your face in the warm crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you keep rolling your hips.

You know Valko notices. Instead of pulling you back, he cradles the back of your head with one large hand. His voice is full of affection as he murmurs against your ear.

“You can stay right here, sweetheart. Just feel it… That’s it. Come for me.”

His words, the steady praise mixed with the way he keeps thrusting up to meet your rolling hips, push you right over the edge.

With one more deep grind of your hips, your orgasm crashes through you. Pleasure surges hot and overwhelming, ripping a muffled, trembling cry from your throat against his neck. Your walls clamp down hard around his cock, pulsing and fluttering. Your thighs shake, slick gushing around him as you come hard, soaking his length and pelvis. Valko groans deeply, the sound vibrating against your chest, and holds you even tighter, his hips still moving with yours – slow, deep rolls that help you ride out every last pulse of pleasure.

Your hips gradually slow, then finally still as the last ripples of your orgasm fade into a warm, glowing haze. You stay draped over him, breathing hard against his neck, your heart still racing wildly in your chest.

After a few long seconds, you finally gather the courage to lift your head from its hiding place. Your face is glistening with sweat, your cheeks are burning, your hair slightly messy as you meet his gaze. You’re still catching your breath, lips parted, eyes a little dazed.

When your eyes lock, the intense heat in Valko’s gaze melts into something more tender. A small, gentle smile curves his lips as he looks up at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen. The hand that had been cradling the back of your head slides forward to graze your cheek with his thumb, stroking it with slow affection.

“There you are…” he murmurs, voice low and fond. “Hi, pretty girl.”

He searches your face for a moment. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, thumb continuing its gentle caress. “Do you want to keep going?”

You feel a sheepish little smile tug at your lips. You nod, still a bit breathless, cheeks warming even more under his attentive gaze.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His smile deepens, soft and warm. “You want me to take over?”

You nod again, a little quicker this time. “Yes, please.”

Valko’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, an almost reverent smile curving his lips as he takes in the sight of you in front of him.

“Just relax for me,” he whispers against your temple, pressing a lingering kiss there. “Tell me if it gets too much, okay?”

After you nod, Valko doesn’t waste another second.

He captures your lips in a slow, deep kiss as he begins to move beneath you. His hips roll up in long thrusts, driving his thick cock deeper into your soaked heat with every stroke. One arm stays locked around your back, pressing your chest flush against his, while his other hand keeps your shorts and underwear tugged to the side so he can fuck you properly.

He keeps kissing you through it – slow and messy, tongues sliding together as his pace gradually picks up. His breath grows heavier against your lips, and between kisses he whispers –

“Am I doing good? Tell me… fuck, I need to hear it.”

You’re already losing yourself in the rhythm of his thrusts, the way his cock stretches and fills you so perfectly. The answer slips out of you in a hazy, breathless mumble, half-coherent and soaked in pleasure.

“You feel so good…” you moan, voice breaking. “Fuck – you’re so big… filling me up so deep…”

Valko groans loudly at your words, the sound low and guttural. His grip on you tightens, and his thrusts grow a little harder, a little faster, driving up into you with more purpose. The wet slap of skin on skin grows louder as he fucks you deeper, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot with devastating precision.

“Yeah? You like how deep I’m fucking you?” he rasps against your lips, voice thick with lust. “You’re taking me so well… so wet and tight around my cock. I could stay buried in you forever.”

You whimper at his filthy words, clenching hard around him. He keeps that perfect rhythm, holding you close, kissing you like he never wants to stop, while his cock drives into you again and again, pushing you closer and closer to the edge once more.

You can feel him starting to throb inside you, his rhythm beginning to falter as he gets closer to the edge. His thrusts grow a little rougher, a little more desperate.

He must feel how you’re close too, because your hips have started moving on their own, grinding down to meet every thrust. His breath stutters against your mouth.

“You close again, baby?” he groans, voice strained and low. “Fuck… I can feel you squeezing me so tight.”

You nod frantically, whimpering as another wave of pleasure builds fast and hot. “Yes – I’m close… please, Valko, go faster – ”

He clenches his jaw, a deep, guttural sound escaping him as he tries to hold back. His hips snap up harder, but you can tell he’s right on the edge.

“I’m too close,” he rasps, almost apologetic, still fucking you deep and steady. “If I go faster, I’m not gonna last – ”

“It’s okay,” you breathe, voice trembling with need as you roll your hips down to take him even deeper. “It’s fine, just – don’t stop. Please.”

Valko lets out a wrecked moan, his grip on you tightening almost painfully. He buries his face in your neck for a second, breathing you in, then pulls back just enough to look at you with dark, desperate eyes.

“Where can I finish?” he asks, voice hoarse and filthy. “Where do you want me?”

Without hesitation, still grinding down on his cock, you whisper against his lips –

“Inside. I want you to come inside me.”

Valko’s control finally snaps.

With a deep, guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt in a few hard, fast thrusts. You feel every powerful spurt as he fills you up, warm and wet, his cock twitching deep in your pussy while he keeps rolling his hips in sloppy thrusts, pushing his release even deeper.

The sensation of him coming inside you sends a fresh wave of heat crashing through you. You’re right on the edge again, but you stay still for him, letting him use you however he needs, your body soft and pliant on top of his as he rides out the last pulses of his orgasm.

Then he pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, voice wrecked and breathless.

“Move, baby… don’t stop. Chase it. I want to feel you come on my cock again.”

You hesitate for half a second, worried it might be too much for him, but he doesn’t let you overthink it. His hands grip your hips firmly and start guiding you, encouraging you to roll and grind on him again.

You nod, eyes locked with his, and start moving.

You ride him through the mess, feeling his warm cum leak out of you with every roll of your hips, slick and obscene, coating both of you. His cock is still hard inside you, but you can feel how oversensitive he is now – the way he twitches and throbs helplessly with every movement, like it’s almost too much.

He meets your rhythm with shallow, desperate thrusts, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise. His eyes stay locked on yours, heavy-lidded and burning, even as his breath turns ragged and broken.

Valko groans, low and wrecked. “That’s it… fuck, just like that,” he rasps, voice tight and strained. “Come on my cock, baby – you’re squeezing me so fucking tight… Good girl, so fucking good…”

It doesn’t take long.

Pleasure slams into you harder this time. You come with a trembling, broken cry, your walls clamping down around his oversensitive cock as another orgasm rips through you. The feeling of his cum leaking out around him with every pulse makes everything wetter, filthier, messier. Slick and cum mix between you as you grind down on him, thighs shaking violently.

This time you don’t hide your face. You stay right there, eyes locked with his, letting him see every second of it – the way your lips part on a silent gasp, the way your whole body shudders and tightens around him.

“Fuck – yes, baby… look at you,” he groans, voice slurred and desperate. “So fucking pretty when you come… good girl…”

His wrecked praise sends a fresh wave of heat through you, drawing out the pleasure for a few more trembling seconds. Then the intense peak of your orgasm slowly fades, leaving you utterly spent. You collapse completely on top of him, your cheek pressed against his chest as you try to catch your breath. Your body feels heavy, hot, and spent in the best possible way. Valko’s arms wrap around you, holding you close as he stays buried deep inside you, his cock still twitching with the last aftershocks. Neither of you makes any move to separate.

You nuzzle back into the crook of his neck, breathing in the comforting mix of his skin, sweat, and your own scent on him. His hands move slowly over your back in long, soothing strokes, fingertips tracing gentle patterns along your spine.

For a long while, you simply rest like that – tangled together, hearts slowing down, his warmth surrounding you completely.

Eventually, his voice breaks the comfortable silence, low and gentle against your ear.

“You okay?” he asks, still stroking your back. “Feeling alright?”

You manage a small nod against his neck, too tired and floaty to form proper words. A tiny, satisfied hum is all you can offer.

He chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath you.

After a few more quiet, peaceful minutes, you finally shift. You slowly push yourself up on shaky arms and lift your hips. The moment he slips out of you, a low, disappointed groan escapes Valko’s throat. The sound is so genuine that you can’t help but let out a soft, breathless chuckle.

“We should probably clean up,” you murmur, still smiling.

He nods, but there’s a playful pout in his expression. Before you can move away, he cups your face with both hands and pulls you down into a slow, sweet kiss. It’s softer than anything that came before – gentle, lingering, and full of affection. When he pulls back, his thumbs brush over your cheeks, and his eyes are warm and tender in the afterglow.

 “You feeling sleepy now?” he asks, a hint of playful teasing in his tone.

You let out a soft, embarrassed little laugh. The reality of everything that just happened is starting to settle in, making your cheeks warm all over again.

“Yeah… I think I am,” you admit.

He chuckles quietly, but then that familiar warm smile returns as he pulls you back down into his embrace. He presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head.

“I never want to let you go.” He whispers.

You melt into him again, letting yourself stay there for a moment longer, tucked safely in his arms. As his fingers keep moving gently over your skin, all you can think is that you want more of this – more nights that end with him holding you close, more stolen hours together, more of his laughter, to feel his warm hands, to see his eyes that always soften when they find yours.

[unintentionalseductress]

Oh my god he's so tender and soft and considerate and..... *devolves into gibberish*

Amazing work girl. 💜💜💜

[l1lacm1st]

BIG BAD WOLF !

summ. When the attacks start occurring in your small town, you end up having more to do with it than you originally thought. The cause of it is less pawsible (plausible) than anyone would think.

tags. red riding hood au, red riding hood!reader, village setting, semi historical?, but inaccurate probably, yandere caleb, reader is surprisingly chill with it, scent knk, caleb on his knees agenda, stalker!leb, fluff, slow build up but it's worth it i think, slight angst, comfort, mild g0re depictions, cursing, br33ding knk, oral (fem rec), p in v, plot twist u can probably see from miles away, p00sydrunk!Caleb, pathetic caleb, yearning

a/n. wowa this is my first fic in a WHILE. someone tell me why it takes me so long to write omg i rlly take my time don't I. anyways i was kinda hesitant to post this bc of the whole valko thing but this was in the drafts before his release so i'm posting it bc the girlies asked 🥹

w/c. 7k

Your front porch is empty.

The afternoon was melting into evening, meaning your bakery delivery should be awaiting on the steps right about now at the latest. It arrived once a week at the same time like clockwork. Or at least, it was supposed to.

A small frown tugs at your lips. You surely didn’t want to visit Grandma’s house with a half-empty basket of goods. But, your lovely grandmother only appreciates that you visit her regardless of what you bring. Still, you gather whatever fruit you have— plums, strawberries, and blackberries— and nestle them into your basket alongside the medicine.

The baker’s shop is just along the path, so you decide to stop along the way, if it means you’ll get some answers about the status of your goods. Your shiny black shoes are dirtying with each step you take on the paved road, kicking up dust as you go. But you pay it no mind; often do you take this path, and you’ve grown quite acquainted with the cobbler next door because of it who now shines your shoes for half the price.

It certainly feels like mid spring, with the sweet aroma of blooms a pleasant background during your stroll. The sun beams down on your signature cherry red hood. Bad habit as it might be, you’re often never seen without it, even if it means you sweat a bit underneath the cotton cloak. Your neighbors recognize your reddened figure immediately, even from a distance. They wave and smile and you return the gestures.

As you turn the corner, your leisurely pace slows further. There’s a murmuring of a rather panicked crowd that drowns out even the light chirping of birds. Your eyes flit about. There’s the Constable, some families from next door, and even ranchers from a few miles down south. Curious, you slide past a few anxious-looking villagers until you come to the steps of the baker’s shop they’re surrounding.

The large window that usually displays all your favorite sweets is shattered, and you can see the destruction of the interior, with various items toppled over from the counter as if there was a scuffle. Then, like a signature of whatever vicious artist painted this mess, there’s a claw-mark slashed into the wooden flooring. It is stained red.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. There’s been yet another attack.

Your little haven of a village has been experiencing them for a year now. First, a flurry of ranchers began complaining about the sudden loss of their sheep. Tens of corpses, they said, would be found in the morning, entirely gorged on by an insatiable beast. Village heads brushed it off as a larger wolf pack that must be passing through. Only, the killings persisted.

Next, it was the shepherd nearby who always offered you bottles of goat milk for only half an hour of light farm labor. His front door had been broken down, and he was found dead in bed with his hands bit off. That’s when it was resolved that this was no ordinary wolf the village was dealing with.

The third, you felt the most conflicted on. A shopkeeper had been found dead in a similarly gruesome fashion, mouth sliced open until it was unhinged form his jaw. You hardly knew him, didn’t want to after he repeatedly leered at you the last time you went to his shop, his thinly-veiled suggestions sending a cold chill of fear down your spine until you left empty handed and never returned since. Still, though you’d hardly wish such a horrid death on anyone, it was hard to feel very sorry for the man.

And now, the baker. You’d always order some of his fresh-baked, steamy loaves of bread to enjoy by yourself or with your Grandma. The selection of cakes he had was vaster than any other in the village. You spent so much time as a loyal customer that you were good acquaintances. And now he’s gone, too.

A few tears well up in your eyes.

Behind the sorrow, there’s aching guilt. A part of this is your fault. If you just hadn’t gone into the woods that night…

Your thoughts are cut off as the investigation continues.“…his eyes and nose were slashed clean off,” the watchman is muttering to the constable, and you truly wish you weren’t close enough to hear their conversation, because a fresh bout of nausea threatens you. You clutch your basket harder and will yourself to think of anything else.

“Little Red,” the watchman calls you, and you glance his way. “Are you on your way to your Grandmother’s house again? I suggest you wait at least a week. The woods may not be safe for you.”

You falter. Wait a week? The fruit and medicine in your basket will turn sour. She needs the nutrition sooner than later. Moreover, your Grandma will likely fret if you don’t visit her soon. She already worries too greatly about you, and such anxiousness is sure to contribute to her already-poor health.

“I cannot,” you insist, biting your lip. “She needs her medicine within a few days. And she will worry if I do not show.”

“Witnesses did say the wolf was seen fleeing east, so likely the opposite direction you’re headed,” the Constable chimes in.

“East? Let’s take our pitchforks and torches eastward and slay that beast,” a particularly rowdy rancher growls, and a few resounding cheers reveal just how enthusiastic the villagers are about ridding this curse for good. Your heart stammers. If they knew what you’ve done, would they brandish those pitchforks toward you, too?

The Constable only thinks to himself, before nodding once. “Little Red, go on, but be cautious. Likely no one is free to escort you if we’re to hunt down that beast. But the Hunter is out in those woods, too. Stop by his house on the way so he can ensure you’re safe.”

The Hunter. The worry alleviates a bit and blossoms into a sense of comfort. If anything can make you feel better, it’s the fact that the Hunter will be close.

You nod once, steel yourself, and set forth on the path again. The bustle of the village fades into the smattering of trees, expansive canopies darkening the trail and spiking your fear further. But you continue, humming a familiar tune to yourself that only you and the trees can hear.

It gets harder and harder to reign in your thoughts. You’re still shaken from what’s happened this morning, from the murder that took place while you were blissfully asleep just a few streets down. You duck your head until your hood blocks your peripheral vision if it means you’ll stop imagining beasts from the corners of your eyes.

There’s a crack of a tree branch that you barely hear underneath the rush of a sudden breeze. You freeze like a deer, dusted black shoes rooted to the ground. Nothing comes.

You will yourself to move after a long moment. For Grandma, you think. There’s no use in turning back now. Grandma needs her medicine.

Slowly, you continue trudging along, and decide to play a game. Indulging in the serenity of nature has always done wonders to calm you down, and even if said nature is frightening right now, you can still always look for the bright side.

You decide your game involves picking flowers in a specific order. It goes like this: you pick a pink flower, then a purple one, then a white one, without skipping a color. The spring showers have allowed a beautiful scattering of wildflowers to sprout alongside the path. And by the time you reach Grandma’s house, you’ll have a lovely bouquet to gift her.

It works, and you’re bounding happily down the path despite the looming darkness over you, absorbed in finding the next bloom. Purple, then white. You snatch up a pink one next and drop it into your basket with the others.

Repeat. Pink, purple, and white. The flowery mass in your basket grows. Pink, purple.

You don’t find a white even after many steps. The buds around you are every color— yellow, red, blue— except white. It’s silly, but a sort of competitiveness with yourself grows, and you find yourself wanting to continue the game.

You finally spot a white flower to your right, contrasting with the verdant grass that nearly hid it from your view. But it’s off the path, a few steps into the forest.

A hint of apprehensiveness grows. You know you’re not supposed to wander from the path. Grandma has instilled it into you herself. And with the incident this morning, getting lost is the last thing you should do.

You glance about as if anyone is around to reprimand you. But the flower is only about twenty feet away, and it’s not as though you’ll lose sight of the path when heading towards it. Your feet carry you towards it before you can second guess the decision.

Each quickening step you take matches your heartbeat. Maybe it’s dramatic, but you have always had rigid rules you’re made to follow, rules you’ve only broken once. Visit Grandma once a week. Buy from the baker every Sunday.

Never stray from the path.

But the thrill of breaking the rules is enough to keep you moving.

You halt in front of the flower and bend to pick it, skirts rustling blades of grass. Before you can rush back, there’s a sharp prick on your feet, and you wince, crouching to bat away whatever cruel insect has tried to suck your blood today. While you’re hunched over, your back is bared to the wilderness.

Just as you’re dropping the hard-earned flower into your basket, a hand grasps at your shoulder.

You shoot up, gasping and turning around. You must look like you’ve seen a ghost, with your wide eyes and paled face, because the figure backs away immediately.

You relax. It’s the Hunter. Your heart pounds now in a way that has nothing to do with fear.

“Caleb,” you blurt, and immediately cringe at how breathless and relieved you sound.

“Did I scare you?” he offers a warm smile, and you think you imagine the sun’s rays gleaming from behind him despite the darkened skies. You shake your head, though it’s an obvious lie.

His brow immediately knits in concern. “Little Red, why are you out at this time?”

“Oh, I’m visiting my Grandma,” you explain, gesturing to your basket.

“But after those attacks? Who approved this?”

The slight anger in his voice makes you blink in surprise. Caleb was rarely seen around the village, but when he wasn’t residing in his remote cabin in the woods or out hunting, even catching a glimpse at him was a treat for all the ladies in the village. With his broad shoulders and friendly smile, he was always a dream, helping out villagers to the point where he’s a favorite. You know the cobbler discounts him even more than you, but you cannot resent him. Even from the few times he’s aided you has the dreaminess caught up to you, too.

So, the ire in his tone has you blanking. “The constable did. He said the wolf went East, so I’d be fine, but to visit you along the way for my safety.”

Caleb relaxes, clutching the strap that holds the gun over his shoulder in place. “A good thing, to be sure.” He lifts his head up at the sky. Ominous black clouds are rolling in, and you can already feel a few fat droplets on your hood. It fills you with dread. You’ve never liked the rain.

He gestures you to follow him, beginning to move again. “It’s about to pour. You should come in for some time.”

You stay close behind his broad back, face heating. Come into his house? It’s not like you don’t trust him, but the thought makes you a little flustered. But the downpour is heavy enough to soak through your hood now, so you hurriedly catch up to him.

His cabin appears in a little clearing. It’s handsome and sturdy-looking, and the smoke above the chimney makes the home all the more appealing. You find yourself drawn into the warmth of it, even if it does mean you’ll be late to your Grandma’s.

A soft gasp spills from your lips as you enter the dimly lit interior. There are animal trophies all over the walls; mounted heads of large deer, foxes, mountain lions, and even a few bears. You knew he was an experienced hunter, the best in the village, if the rumors were true. But seeing it for yourself is almost astonishing.

“There are so many,” you exhale breathlessly, head tilted upwards to gaze at the animals. The flames flicker and make their glazed, lifeless eyes shine. “How do you manage to hunt this much when you’re so young?”

Caleb shuts the door behind you, smiling almost sheepishly. “I practice a lot. Besides, hunting is almost all I do. Let me take your cloak.”

You repress a shudder as he steps in front of you, gently slipping off your hood and hanging it up. His gaze remains intense on your face a moment too long and you’re quick to turn away so you can breathe again.

“But there are no wolves,” you note, eyebrows knitting together. “Are wolves really so elusive in our village? No one has caught the beast, yet, either.”

He mounts his gun on the wall and pushes a hand through his brown hair, ears pinkening. “I simply haven’t ran into any wolves while hunting. They are rare.”

“Ah.” You perch hesitantly on his loveseat, warmth of the hearth chasing away any chill from the rain. You blink up at him. “So you haven’t seen the beast then. I wonder how many more lives will be taken before this finally ends.”

You don’t mean to sour the mood within your first conversation with Caleb in weeks, but it’s hard to stop your tone from taking a somber lilt. The aching emptiness in your basket where your loafs would usually be weighs the loss of a fellow villager heavily on your conscience.

He’s silent for a long moment, before joining you on the loveseat in a hesitant manner. “The baker…did you know him, personally?”

You nod. “I did. I don’t mean to bring down our spirits, though…”

“Not at all.” Caleb is quick to scoot closer to you, before he falters at his own eagerness. “You can talk to me about anything, Little Red.”

You bite your lip, suddenly wishing you still wore your hood if it meant being shielded from his attentive eyes. “I was curious as to why my bread hadn’t arrived on my doorstep this morning. When I went to visit the baker’s shop, it was completely destroyed.”

He looks wounded. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “It is not as though it’s your fault. Thank you for all you do, protecting the village and helping around. I actually really admire you, to be frank.”

Caleb lights up immediately, a shy smile forming on his handsome face. “Really?”

“Yes,” you laugh, finding the way he perks up to be endearing. It’s at odds with how collected he is when he’s carrying rolls of hay for you or helping tow some of your groceries.

“Oh,” he clears his throat, looking down at his lap. He almost seems awkward even in his own house. His eyes dart to your basket, eyebrows raising. “Does your Grandma enjoy flowers?”

“Yes. But it’s mainly me who enjoys picking them.”

“Cute,” he murmurs so softly to himself that you have to pretend like you don’t hear it, cheeks pinkening. Then Caleb’s skillful hands are collecting the flowers. “Let me tie a bouquet for you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

A pretty red bow is already securing them together. “There,” his fingers caress the silk reverently. “It’s done.”

“Thank you,” you beam, unable to keep the giddy grin off your face. It’s not often that the village heartthrob gifts you a bow. Until you remind yourself the bow is technically for Grandma and not you. You laugh to yourself as you imagine how wooed Grandma would be when you tell her the bow is from Hunter Caleb himself.

His violet eyes are pinned onto you, enraptured and impossibly soft. Now it’s your turn to clear your throat and shift, embarrassed. Your face is so red that you might be mistaken for the bow’s twin.

“Oh, and you should also take these with you,” Caleb’s standing and bringing over a bucket of his own. Apples, deep crimson and glossy, fill the container. He puts a handful into your basket.

“Thank you,” you gush for what seems like the nth time, feeling more than indebted. It’s a simple offering, but for some reason, the gesture feels deeper than what meets the eye.

“Your favorite,” he hums, bright eyes creased. “I just picked them fresh off the tree just yesterday, and now here you are. What perfect timing.”

You don’t exactly think you’re supposed to be hearing that last part, with the way he sounds giddy when mumbling it to himself, but you feel touched anyways. “That’s very thoughtful,” you say, but something nags at you. “But…how did you guess apples were my favorite?”

Caleb blinks, grin faltering.

“They’re red, and red is your signature color. I just assumed.”

Butterflies flutter pleasantly in your stomach. He’s thought about the little details about you, like what fruit you like. Hope soars through you when you wonder if your one-sided attraction towards him might be more reciprocated than you thought.

“You guessed right,” but then your foot stings, and you’re suddenly reminded of the insect that’d bitten you when you strayed off the path. The bare bridge of your foot is mildly pink and swollen, and you cannot repress a hiss.

Caleb’s on his feet in a second, returning with some salve. “You should have said something earlier. Now, don’t touch it. I need to disinfect it.”

You watch him, a bit panicked, as he kneels in front of you and slides off your dusted black shoes. “It’s quite alright, I won’t ask you to do that—”

“Shh,” he’s already taken your foot in his warm grasp, and you swear your heart might pop out of your chest. “Oh, poor thing. It must burn.”

“You’ve done a great deal for me already,” you blurt, eyes as wide as saucers. Was he just a very generous host, and doted this greatly on all of his guests? But then, you realize, he likely has little visitors this deep in the woods. You almost pity him a little, for he’s obviously very keen on being helpful, and he must not have any opportunity to be unless he’s in the village. You resignedly let him cup your foot in his palm.

“Nonsense. You’ve done far more for me.” He gently rubs the salve on and it immediately cools your inflamed skin.

Huh? You blink, trying to think about what he must be referring to. Your mind comes up blank, but maybe it’s because there’s a ridiculously handsome man at your feet.

“Better?” Caleb’s looking up at you expectantly, and you’re jerked out of your thoughts.

“Yes,” you say, and you’re about to thank him again but hold your tongue lest you sound repetitive.

You expect him to slide your shoe back on. He doesn’t. Instead, he remains kneeling, thumbs stroking your sole so reverently that it tickles.

“It looks like the rain won’t be letting up tonight,” notes Caleb, as the steady pitter patter on the windows echoes throughout the house. The fire flickers dangerously and threatens to delve the entire cabin into darkness, before flaring up again victoriously. You release a breath, a sudden flash of lightning putting you on edge.

“Does that mean I have to stay?” You cannot keep the apprehensiveness from the question. Simply put, staying the night in a man’s house is nothing short of inappropriate. But you know with a beast on the loose and a chaotic storm outside, it’s ironically the only acceptable option.

“I’m afraid so.” Thankfully, Caleb straightens again and releases your foot from his grasp, settling beside you. “You’ll have to visit your Grandma in the morning. It’s dangerous to leave the house now.”

You nod, suddenly self conscious of how his arm brushes yours. He’s so big. His shirt is rolled up to his elbows and reveals a tantalizing stretch of strong, veiny forearms. Your throat dips with a heavy swallow as you realize the implications of spending a night here.

“Caleb,” your eyes are half lidded when you turn to look at him. “Do you ever get…lonely here, so deep in these woods? Or scared?”

He stares at you for a long moment. “No. I often have company.”

“Oh,” you can only say, off guard. What kind of company could he possibly have out here? A lady?

“The animals,” he clarifies with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “As for being scared…I can protect myself.”

Thunder cracks like a whip, and you jump. Caleb notices, eyebrows knitting together.

“And you, Little Red?” Lightning flashes again, illuminating his clenched jaw for only a split second. Another roll of thunder almost drowns out his next words. “What are you scared of?”

The fire is dying out slowly now, embers glowing faintly in the darkened cabin. “Storms,” you admit, after a second of considering if you should tell him. “I’m scared of thunderstorms. And…wolves.”

His eyes narrow. “Wolves.” He places his palm against your back when you flinch at the wailing wind outside. The heat of it is searing even through your shirt. “Have you ever…seen one?”

You lick your lips, throat tightening. It was seemingly a harmless question on the surface, one villagers would whisper to each other like folktales. But the way he asked it was as if he was digging for something. Like he knew.

You shake your head and spit out the lie you’ve told yourself for almost a year. “No.”

Only your voice quivers on the one word under the violet stare latched onto your face. His next words are like claws shredding your thinly-veiled lie to pieces. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” your reply is just as insistent and breathy as his own. Your chest tightens. Why was he questioning you like this? Did he find out?

Caleb stares at you for a long moment, and you hold your breath. He doesn’t appear accusing, just… knowing.

“Alright,” he accepts, and your body slumps slightly in relief. You’re about to change the topic when his nose suddenly brushes your temple.

“What scares you about wolves?” He rasps into your hair, slowly nuzzling his cheek against your head. You freeze, cheeks burning. He sounds indulgent and teasing, and it has you squeezing your thighs together.

“Their claws,” you stammer, butterflies exploding in your abdomen when you hear him inhale.

“Their hands?” Caleb’s lips brush the shell of your ear and all your nerves feel as if they’ve been shocked. A whimper spills from your lips. His other hand raises to slide from your shoulder to your forearm, eliciting goosebumps in its wake.

“Yes,” you blink dazedly. He’s so close, practically on top of you on this loveseat. When did he move closer? What was he doing? The warmth seeping from his body is enough to remind you that this is against the rules. Grandma would be mortified if she saw you letting him touch you like this. Yet, instead of shame, you only feel exhilaration.

“And their teeth, and jaws,” you add, shivering when his lips move to your cheek, grazing the soft flesh.

“Their mouths,” he clarifies, and you nod again, hands clutching the edge of the cushion you sit on. The warmth of want spreads through you so quickly you don’t think you can hold back anymore. You turn your head slightly, meeting his half-lidded gaze, and let your lips brush his.

Caleb reels back as if burned.

You stare at him as he lifts himself off of you slightly and turns to look out the window, up at the cloudy sky barely illuminated by the moon, where thunder clouds roll out quickly towards the east. Your mouth goes dry when he finally turns to look at you. With pity.

“I apologize, I seem to have misunderstood,” you babble, lip trembling with humiliation. “Uh, I shouldn’t have…that you wanted me.”

Your heart clenches with every stuttered word and you move to get up off the loveseat. You don’t get far before a hand is cupping your face and Caleb slots his lips over yours.

“How could you think,” chu, “that I don’t want you?”

You don’t get a chance to even reply before he’s kissing you again, suckling and licking and biting into your mouth with a fervor that leaves you breathless. You remain frozen for a moment, before kissing back meekly, your own passion a flame compared to his ravenous fire.

“I’ve been holding back for so long, worried I’d scare you,” Caleb pants as he drags his tongue across your bottom lip. His lips connect with yours over and over again, until you’re both dizzy and dazed with lust, as if he cannot bear to part for even a second.

“Caleb,” you can only say, blinking past the fog of arousal.

“Hah, you smell so good,” he blurts, sniffing against your neck. “Need to taste.”

You nod along, and he drops to his knees instantly. Caleb gazes up at you, eyes drinking up the sight of you like this. His large palms make you shiver when they slide under your skirt, skimming your soft thighs and slowly slipping off your panties. A sigh escapes him as he watches the way your arousal clings to the fabric, and he licks his lips.

Then he’s bunching up your skirt around your hips and burying his face against your pussy.

You cry out, clutching the edge of the loveseat underneath you for purchase, as Caleb eats at you like you’re his favorite meal. His slimy tongue curls again and again round your hole, before he presses the flat of it wholly against your clit, the rough buds against your slippery folds creating a friction so delicious you moan.

His lips latch onto your clit and suck cruelly like it’s hard candy, violet eyes peering at you underneath his dark lashes. Your legs kick out, feet flexing as you attempt to not scream at the pleasure.

He’s drooling, chin shiny with your wetness and his own saliva. He grinds his nose against the sticky folds and inhales, eyes rolling black in bliss. “Fuck, y’smell so good,” he rumbles against your pussy.

You flush bright red, cunt fluttering against his tongue.

Caleb makes a keening sort of sound, like a whine. You glance down at the man between your legs, vision foggy with pleasure. It’s almost hypnotic, the way he eagerly sucks and laps at your cunt, the hot pleasure making your toes curl and legs tremble over his shoulders. The fuzziness almost makes you miss the sharp glint of his canines catching under the moonlight.

Almost.

You blink, eyebrows furrowing in mild confusion, but all thoughts turn to mush when his tongue pushes past that tight ring of muscle, delving into your pussy and nudging your walls with a lewd squelch.

You wail, hands flying down to tangle in his brown locks. Your hips move on their own until you’re practically grinding down on his face. Caleb moans appreciatively against your clit, and you fist his hair tighter.

His hair is just as silky and soft underneath your fingers as you’d imagined. Then something twitches in your grip.

You drag your gaze downwards, gently unfurling your hands. At first you think the odd shape on his head is the result of you messing up his hair. But then you look closer, and see the pointy, unmistakable silhouette of ears. Animal-like ears.

Caleb doesn’t notice your growing panic, lost in the taste of you, eyes shut with bliss. All the while, your pleasure dissolves into a heavy tightness in your chest. There’s a flurry of movement just behind his kneeling figure, swaying back and forth animatedly— a tail.

A gasp is wrenched from your throat, and your foot pushes at his shoulder. The moonlight streaks brightly into the cabin, spilling past the window panes. It illuminates the predator between your legs like a warning.

Caleb’s eyes snap to yours at the nudge, dark and hungry. He blinks and his gaze rounds, probably at the shell-shocked expression you wear.

“What’s wrong?” He breathes. You stay silent, barely even breathing.

His hands dart to hover over his head. You watch as an expression of horrid realization dawns on his face, and it’s enough of an indicator that this is real.

You cry out, crawling backwards on the loveseat, clumsily trapping yourself in the nook. Your legs kick out in warning when he reaches for you.

“Little Red,” he pants, lovesick smile twisting his face. It’s supposed to be reassuring, but it looks hysterical. “It’s not— let me explain.”

“Don’t kill me,” you hiccup, voice seizing.

“Baby, never,” Caleb coos, eyebrows knitting together. “I’d never hurt you, my love.”

The passionate words just serve to make you more unsettled, and you shuffle back more, not taking your eyes off him for a second. “Did you…lure me here, to—”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” he rasps, fluffy ears pinned down to his head. His expression drops into a sullen one, lips still glossy with your arousal tugging downwards into a pout. You snap your thighs shut, cunt still uncomfortably damp. “I never wanted you to find out like this. I didn’t want to lie, I just…”

Your eyes dart to the door.

“I did it all for you!” Caleb blurts, chest heaving. His pupils are blown so wide, his eyes are nearly black. They glossily reflect the full moon beaming through the window. “It’s all for you. The—that shepherd, he was planning to hurt you. If you knew why he kept luring you to his ranch…” His tone trails off darkly and his fists clench.

“And, the man who ran that shop, that scum said all those disgusting things to you. I couldn’t stand the idea of his filth touching you, even in words. The baker, he’d deliver your goods late at night, as an excuse to try and peek through your windows and watch you.” He’s rambling so fast you can barely register his words. His breathing gets heavier with every sentence, and his fluffy tail sweeps against the floor anxiously.

“And how do you know all that?” You question breathlessly, head spinning.

Caleb gapes, mouth dropping as he attempts to formulate a response. “Well, I— I…I follow you sometimes, just to—”

“Why?” You cry.

“You know why,” Caleb crawls closer, and despite your yelp of protest, clutches your leg again. He only caresses your skin, but one glance at his dauntingly sharp fingernails has you freezing again. “That night. I know you remember, honey.”

The night that you’ve been trying to forget, that you’ve held against yourself for so long. Maybe you shouldn’t have left the house at all, but the whimpers just outside your window were too loud to ignore. Lying there, curled up against a tree, was a figure of some sort. You thought it an animal, with its fur and keening sounds, yet it was too dark, and the creature was covered in too much mud, for you to make out what it could be. All you could sense was that it was different, and wrongly large.

“Apples,” a breath escapes him, half laugh and half sigh, as if he’s recounting his favorite memory and not one of a near death experience. “You brought me a basket of apples, and said, ‘Here, I don’t have anything else in my home, as the market is tomorrow. But apples are very healthy. Eat them and you’ll feel better.’”

You swallow thickly, staring at him as he recites you word for word.

“One of the ranchers had gotten me good, bullet straight in my chest. I was alone and new to my…transformations, so I couldn’t help devouring all his sheep. I barely managed to flee a mile before collapsing.” Caleb reverently cups your leg with both hands, eyes crinkling as he continues. “But then, like an angel, you came. You offered your kindness, even to an animal like me. Even in my state, I took one look at your red hood and vowed to keep you safe.”

A choked sound escapes you. You’d suspected the beast you’d helped to be the same to later wreak havoc on your town, but for it to be a man? Caleb?

“I love you,” he continues, shifting a bit on his knees. The new position reveals the outline of his arousal pressing needily through his pants, and your stomach flips. “I love you, I love you, I love you—”

A flush burns your cheeks. “Caleb—”

“Please don’t leave, it’s dangerous outside,” he finishes quietly, forehead resting to your knee.

You sit in silence for what feels like eternity, the only sound being the howling wind and Caleb’s ragged breath against your skin. Then your hand drifts low, cupping his ear and petting the velvet fur.

His breath hitches, watery puppy-eyes raising to stare at you. He tilts his head into your touch, lips parting.

“I won’t leave,” you decide with so much certainty it shocks even yourself.

Caleb blinks, before his face splits into a blinding smile, sharp canines poking past his lips. “You…you’ll stay?”

You nod, and he hesitantly straightens, perching next to you. “Thank you,” he leans over you, face looming. “Thank you—”

You kiss him again, and he returns it eagerly, teeth grazing your sensitive lips before licking over it soothingly. His tail thumps rapidly against your leg, hands squeezing every bit of flesh they find. You squeal as he grinds into you seemingly unconsciously, the friction of his clothed erection nudging your clit through your skirt making you cream.

“Hahh, Little Red,” he whines, burying his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling. He lets out another sound, tongue laving across your throat, before his teeth nip your skin. “You smell, and taste…so good.”

Your legs wrap around his waist, and your skirt bunches up at your hips, baring your bare cunt to his movements. His rough trousers grind against your pussy deliciously, smearing your arousal on his clothes lewdly. It’s like he can’t choose; Caleb nips and sucks at your neck, then peppers your face in gentle kisses, before returning to your lips again in a kiss so messy you’d think him an entirely different person.

“Caleb,” your needy whine rivals his own, and your hands trail lower, sliding under his shirt. “I need you, please!”

“P-poor thing,” he tuts, wasting no time in tugging off his shirt. Your eyes rave him greedily, fingers caress down the toned expanse of his abdomen, lingering suggestively near his happy trail. Caleb’s chest heaves with a shudder. “I, ah, left you all needy, huh?”

His hands slips under your skirt and between your thighs, thumb dragging through your wet slit, a teasing touch that makes your legs jerk. “Don’t worry. Caleb will take care of you.”

The clink of his belt buckle sends a shiver of delight up your spine. A flush glows on his cheeks as you stare down at his red, needy cock, which jerks at your attention. Caleb’s abs clench when your soft, small hand wraps around the head, thumbing the weeping tip gently.

“Fuck,” he gasps, eyebrows knitting together. “Nghh! Don’t do that, I’m gonna cum—”

“Then cum,” you giggle, though it’s hard to tease him when your thighs press together eagerly at the sight of him this pathetic.

“No,” he huffs*,* low and sharp, hiking your leg over his shoulder. “All my cum, hah, needs to go inside you. Need to fill this pussy up, wanna breed you,” Caleb babbles, sharpened canine biting his lip as he stares down at your naked folds.

You inhale, humorous disposition melting into arousal.

Caleb taps his tip against your clit with a lewd click, and you mewl at the slight stimulation. He glides his veiny shaft against your swollen folds, rubbing the bundle of nerves, smearing your sticky arousal all over him.

His shroomy head finally nudges the entrance of your pussy, and you tense, clenching around nothing. Caleb coos, lips skimming your cheekbone.

“Big stretch, yeah?” You nod along, nails already digging crescent moons into his back. He pushes past the tight ring of muscle, and you immediately seize up at the burning stretch, gasping.

“Shit, hah, just relax, angel,” he grits, jaw slacking at the feel of your warm walls gripping him, eyebrows drawn together in bliss. “Fuck, baby, gonna need you to let me in.”

You take a breath, stomach heaving, as he slips in with a pop. He feeds you more, and more yet. Just when you think he’s done, cock pressing so snugly inside you, he pushes in yet another inch, bottoming out.

Slow, leisurely rocks of his hips are quickening until he’s already pounding deep into you, pulling all the way out before bottoming into you with a force that has you squealing. His pelvis slams into your thighs with wet plaps, stinging the flesh pink.

Your pussy flutters and sucks him in greedily, the way he shoves at your g-spot sparking white-hot tingles through your lower belly. It’s hard to control your pitched whimpers, swollen lips parting as you struggle to steady your breathing.

Caleb looks gone, eyes glazed and fixated on your face only. Pants and groans spill from his parted lips like liquor, drunk entirely on your pussy.

Then, like he wasn’t deep enough already— he grabs your other leg and hikes it over his shoulder, folding you into a cruel mating press.

“Cay-leb!” You hiccup at the new angle, tears dotting your lashes as his cock pushes impossibly deeper, drilling into your cervix so hard you see stars.

“It would drive me insane,” he growls against your ear, before nipping the shell, “how you’d smell like everyone else.”

“Now, you smell like me. Mine,” Caleb’s hips pick up, and you can only lay there pliantly, toes curling as his gooey tip rams into your g-spot again and again. “My cute little mate.”

The croon goes straight to your head and you blink fuzzily, a fresh wave of heat flooding your cheeks. “Fuck, you’re so cute, hugging me so snugly,” Caleb presses a sweet kiss to your lips, before his mouth latches to your neck again, and you whine weakly as he sucks yet another possessive mark onto your skin. “Wanna keep you here forever. In these woods, where no one can touch you again.”

The words should ignite fear in you, especially coming from the beast you’ve feared for so long now— but you can only feel a wanton sort of desire.

“Yes,” you blurt, hands running through his messy locks as you rest your forehead against yours. “Nghh! Yes, Caleb, I’m yours.”

Caleb’s ruthless pace doesn’t slow, even as he blinks slowly and then beams, tail swishing happily behind him. “Yeah, hah,” he dots kisses across your nose, gentle contrast to the lewd way his cock batters your poor pussy into a sticky mess, “knew we were fated. You’re my, mm, perfect mate. My angel.”

His cock thrusts in and out of you so fast, kissing your nerves until a white-hot pleasure mounts to a peak. Your cunt forms a frothy ring around him, stretched so tightly over his cock, like it’s trying to suck him in and never let go.

“I’m gonna cum,” you pant, hands batting at his abs. “Please—”

As soon as his fingers stray down to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud with tight circles, you cum, clenching hard around Caleb’s cock, soaking him with your arousal. Your thighs quake over his shoulders as he thrusts once, twice— before pressing deep in you and cumming, hot essence flooding your walls.

“Ah,” Caleb gasps and whines, eyes widening for a fraction at the way your pussy flutters around his spent cock. His hips stutter and he collapses lightly on top of you, nuzzling tiredly into your hair.

You both lay there for minutes, panting and sweaty. Caleb whines lightly and presses his nose to your skin again, arms banded around your body till he’s so tightly pressed to you, you’d think he’s trying to fuse you together.

He’s still inside you, but neither of you complain about the wet sticky mess between you two just yet, content to lay there in each other’s arms.

Caleb lifts his head and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, rousing you from your slight sleepiness. “Little Red. We’ll have to go to your Grandma’s tomorrow morning, then.”

A pang of guilt hits you when you remember your initial purpose of loitering in these woods in the first place. “Yes. Of course.” You pause. “We?”

He shuffles a bit on top of you, attempting to hide his flushed face against your breast. “Well… I thought I’d go with you.”

“Why?” You tug playfully at his ear and he melts instantly, relenting.

“So you can introduce me.”

“Introduce you?” You cast one look at Caleb’s sheepish expression and smile fondly.

“Yes, I will. I’ll introduce you as my boyfriend.”

Caleb’s face splits into a grin and his tail thumps against the cushions at that, and as he’s on you again, peppering ticklish kisses across your neck, your giggles ring out in the warm cabin.

[mwphisto]

I need to know everyone's reactions to having a bush and then shaving your bush PLEAASE.

Xavier has gotten used to the bush. He loves the bush.

That’s like… his baby low key. That man is slipping a hand down the front of your shorts just to play with your pubes to fall asleep alright?

Like he’s petting the kitty for real.

So when you come out of the shower and she’s bald? He’s a bit stunned to say the least. “You shaved?” The towel has dropped to the floor as you rummage around your drawers for some panties to slip on, turning with a grin to show Xavier the fruits of your labor.

“I did! I saw a hack online and I wanted to try it, it’s been a while since she’s been clean shaven down there… feels so soft, wanna touch?”

You’re wiggling your eyebrows at him, completely unaware of his little mini crisis now that his favorite fidget toy is gone. “…soft?”

Okay, well, maybe he can compromise. "Yeah, super soft, I gotta put some lotion on her though... maybe you can help me out with that?" Oh? Yeah maybe this wasn't the worst thing to ever happen to him.

Zayne had been quite shy at first about his love for your bush. Something about it just really, really does it for him, okay?

The further you got into your relationship, the more apparent it became. So? You quite shaving, stuck to cleaning up and trimming when it felt necessary. But never really waxed or clean shaved.

That is, until summer hit and you really wanted to wear this one swimsuit and no matter what you did, the hair was just too obvious.

"Zayne, baby? I gotta tell you something." You actually felt a tad guilty as you peek into his office, towel still clinging to your body. "That... sounds guilty. What did you do?" Break something, maybe? Accidentally post an embarrassing photo of him? No, maybe worse.

"You know that bikini?" Oh, oh no. Yeah, way worse. You could see the horror dawning on his face before you could even drop the towel. "Zayne, please, I had to..." But his eyes look like that of a kicked puppy, his work abandoned as he swivels in his chair. "You didn't..."

"I had too." You whine, opening your towel to show your clean shaven, hair free, smooth, bush-less kitty. He nearly falls to his knees.

Rafayel has never really cared either way, honestly. He's quite used to being relatively hairless down there due to being Lemurian.

He doesn't expect you to shave or wax to meet those "standards", he doesn't mind you having a bush in the slightest. He actually is rather fond of nuzzling it after he eats you out.

"Raf..." You breath into the kiss, head tilting back as his lips trail lower towards your jaw. Their end destination currently throbbing between your thighs. "Hurry... I don't wanna wait..."

You're squirming, ungracefully trying to kick off your shorts as you feel his lips curl into a grin against your heated skin. "Fine, fine, cutie. Someone is impatient." Pulling away, Rafayel easily yanks your shorts and underwear off in one go, trying not to do a double take when he's greeted by the sight of your bare, clean shaven pussy.

"What inspired this sudden style change?" You blink up at him, nearly forgetting you had shaved yourself while showering this morning.

"J-just felt like it. Does that really matter?" You spread your legs a little further, a little more of your dignity flying out the window as you pleaded for him to please you just how you loved him to.

"Nah, it doesn't. But she looks cute like this... looks cute all the time though..." You can't dwell on it, not when his head dips down and disappears between your plush thighs.

Sylus prefers your grooming habits to be whatever you're most comfortable with. He loves the bush, loves when you're clean shaven, doesn't matter to him so long as you're comfy.

"I did something today." You grin as you plop down beside him on the couch, a freshly poured glass of red wine swirling in your cup as he nurses a second cup of whiskey. "Something exciting, it seems?"

You try and swallow your grin but are unsuccessful, holding the crimson gaze that is peeking at you over wire rimmed glasses.

Sitting on your knees, you take a small sip of the liquid before leaning closer to your lover. "I shave my kitty today."

It had been months since you had gone fully bald. Trimming was one thing, keeping her neat and clean was another. But totally bare, Sylus couldn't recall the last time he had seen it. "oh?'

"Wanna see?" "Of course I want to see."

Setting your wine glass on the coffee table, you push up on your knees and yank down the front of your shorts. Shamelessly flashing Sylus with a far too innocent grin on your face. "Nice work, kitten. Not a single nick or sign of irritation. I'm impressed."

Caleb has always been fond of the bush, he especially loves when it gets a little wild and grown out. Sticking through your undies, peeking out the sides. You very rarely let it get that long though.

"Hey colonel." You're relaxing on your shared bed when he shuffles into the room, eyes easily looking over your frame and doing a double take.

"You...shaved her?"

You sit up slightly, peering down your body with a raised eyebrow before looking up at Caleb again. "You're sick and twisted, how the hell did you know I shaved my cooch just by looking at me?" But it's the way your panties are sitting on your hips, the way there is no hair peeking.

"Just... know you. That's beside the point. What made you shave?"

The colonel hat hits the dresser, then the gloves, all the while his eyes are locked on you with intent. "Just... got bored? I don't know I haven't done it in a long while. Do you not like it?"

The look that flashes across his face makes you feel stupid for even second guessing. "I was just curious, pips." His feet fall heavy as he walks towards you, immediately falling to his knees when he hits the edge of the bed. "Should I show you how much I like it?"

Valko is a wolf, naturally he's used to people having body hair. He finds it mildly odd when they don't. But like, your preference, you know?

So, he makes you aware of that right from the start of your relationship. Letting you know that you don't have to shave for him, that you don't have to be hairless for him. He loves some body hair, he loves the bush.

"Woah... did I miss something?" You've gotten comfortable with changing in front of him, not thinking twice as you strip from your uniform to hop in the shower. "Huh?"

"You uh... you shaved it off..." peering down, you realize his amber eyes are locked on the freshly shaved front of your pubic bone.

"Oh, yeah. I don't know I just felt like trying it out, it's been a while since I've done it. Do you not like it?" Valko's jaw actually drops at the question. Him? Not like your pussy? What?

"I'd be a moron if I didn't like it, but you know I love you with hair, right?" He really wanted to make sure this wasn't an insecurity thing. At that realization, you can't help but grin, stepping forward to place a chaste peck on his lips. Finding it oddly touching and adorable.

"I do know that... but do you wanna feel how soft she is now?"

[goldiwrites]

crushcrushcrush

pairing: roommate!bucky barnes x female!reader

summary: it was unrequited love at first sight when you met bucky barnes. having a crush on him—your roommate—is hard enough, but hearing him fuck through your shared wall? that almost kills you.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, modern au, lots of plot, fluff, angst, sloooow burn, anxious!reader, kinda insecure!reader, reader works at a bar, cap’s quartet roommates, swearing, drinking, weed mentions, idiots in love they just don't know it, oblivious!reader (i love her your honour), yearningggg, jealousy, reader crashes tf outttt, miscommunication, one (1) argument, love confessions, pet names (sweetheart, angel, doll, pretty girl), detailed explicit smut, slight dom!bucky, dirty talk, teasingggg, grinding, munch!bucky, oral (f!receiving), fingering, dacryphilia, pussy pronouns, small inspection kink, praise kink, unprotected pnv (don’t do this, friends), missionary, mating press, multiple orgasms, brief sub space, mention of f & m masturbation, happy ending, no use of y/n, reader wears a dress, no physical descriptions of reader, reader's pov, kinda dramatic, briefly proofread, this is not your typical roommate!bucky fic !!

word count: 20.6k (apparently i have this condition where i can't write a short fic)

authors note: i am actually the leader of the 'having debilitating crushes on your roommate' club so... shout out to my girls who have been hearing me yap about this fic for months 😭 thank you to my gorgeous, stunning, one of a kind beta reader @phoenix-in-writing 🫶 yes, i did use some off campus characters as reader's coworkers - there's no subplot with them, they just suited the vibe 😎 likes, reblogs, and comments are very much appreciated (and feed my validation kink)

song inspo: crushcrushcrush - paramore & boyfriend - best coast

divider credits: line dividers by @/omi-resources, heart divider by @/strangergraphics

masterlist

Nothing compares to a quiet evening alone Just the one, two, I was just counting on That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again Let's be more than, more than this

You knew from the moment you stepped into the Brooklyn brownstone that you were royally fucked. 

Ruffled, sleep mussed, dark brown hair. Slightly squinted, soft, deep blue eyes. A white sleep shirt that loosely clung to the hard ridges of a muscled body. Grey sweatpants that hung dangerously low and showed the shape of him if you stared longer than was appropriate.

And, god, the low, husky voice that you could feel rumble through your body from metres away. The slender, strong, veiny hands that didn't hesitate to grab the box slipping from yours. The pink lips that stretched into an easy smile, pearly white teeth dazzling and rendering you speechless for a minute.

The heat that crawled up your back was instant—your body reacting to your new roommate before you even knew his name.

Attractive men existed, you knew that. The bar you worked at had handfuls of them come in every night, some that even flashed you a flirty smile with interest in their eyes. But you didn't live with any of them—you didn't see them when they were half-awake, their rough edges softened by sleep and early morning light.

He introduced himself as James Barnes, but he requested you call him Bucky—"only my ma calls me James"—, and mentioned he worked as a physiotherapist at the VA.

He was quick to put the box in your new room, running out to the curb to grab the rest of your belongings from the rental van. You stood near the entrance, frozen in shock. Words failed you, your brain failed you—the only thing you could think about was the shift of his back muscles beneath his shirt as he hauled boxes through the door. It was an intoxicating sight, one you didn't even know would affect you.

You quickly came to learn that the problem was Bucky—everything he did had an intoxicating effect on you.

The smile he flashed you as he handed you your morning coffee, the wink he tossed your way when he took your side in your weekly movie night debate with Sam, his laughs that you could hear through your shared wall when he gamed with his friends.

His laughter was one of the most intoxicating things about him. There were the low, deep huffs when he was tired. The louder, harsher ones when he was caught by surprise. Then your favourite—the long, slightly breathless giggles that crinkled the corner of his eyes and had his nose scrunching. Every time you were blessed with them, you could only think about how cute he looked. It made him even more attractive, and you even more infatuated.

When your friend and roommate said that she was going to move into her partner's apartment once your lease was up, the first thing you felt was dread. You didn't know anyone who was looking for a room, nor did you know anyone who was looking for a roommate. The last thing you wanted was to move in with a stranger—having already lived with complete strangers in the past you could not say it was a pleasant experience. Your friend—an absolute angel—was quick to tell you that a coworker at her law firm was looking for a roommate, and she assured you that Nat would not break into your room and steal your jewellery like your first ever roommate did.

While you weren't exactly ecstatic to move in with four best friends, Nat had quickly won you over when you met for coffee. You sat down feeling like a complete contrast to her—sporting an old sweatshirt over your sweaty work uniform while she was in a creaseless emerald pantsuit. But she made you feel completely at ease—offering up embarrassing college stories about her and the guys, asking you about yourself and actually seeming interested, talking about the brownstone with so much adoration in her voice you couldn't help but love it already.

You felt awkward living with the close knit friends at first—shuffling on your feet as the four of them lounged on the couches, pulling at the loose threads on your sweater as you sat and listened to them bicker.

Fortunately, it didn't take long for you to find your place in the group. Sam played a big part—his teasing and infectious personality making you feel at home within a week. He didn't let you retreat into yourself; he pestered you with a mix of random and personal questions—"what extinct animal do you most identify with" followed by "what was your first heartbreak"—, teased you about your cooking (to which he always stole a mouthful), and was just warm—and yeah, slightly chaotic.

Nat and Steve quickly became one of your favourite couples. They weren't heavy on the PDA—unless red wine was involved—and they balanced each other out perfectly. She was loud, he was quiet. After a few too many on a night out she was ready to start a fight with any asshole who dared to look her way, and he was there to gently steer her away by the shoulders and remind her it wasn't worth ruining her fresh manicure.

Despite having some opposite traits, they were both incredibly kind and comforting people—truly living up to their titles of being the household's mom and dad. Nat was there for you after your gruelling shifts, holding either a glass of wine or mug of hot chocolate. Steve was the one knocking on your door with a bowl of soup and bag of medicine when you had the flu.

And then there was Bucky. He was just as kind, a good middle between Sam's chaotic nature and Steve's quiet one, and he made you feel seen.

Uncomfortably so.

He was the one next to you during social gatherings, gently nudging his shoulder against yours in a silent check in. He was the one suggesting fresh air when your breathing picked up incrementally. He was the one staring at you like he was captivated, sitting forward as you rambled about your niche interests.

Bucky noticed you, paid attention to you, like no one else had in your life.

He remembered what mugs you liked, making sure to use one of them when he made you both coffee—he remembered that too, the way you liked your coffee made. He bought you more body wash when you complained about running out but not having time to go to the shop before your shift. He sat next to you as you rewatched your comfort shows for the fifth time, asking questions like he was genuinely interested—a welcome contrast to Sam's mocking comments.

Each day he was in your life, looking at you like you were worth knowing, was just another day you fell deeper.

And then there were the moments. There weren't many, only a handful, but they were burned into your memory.

The first was when you came back after brunch with old friends, wearing a white sundress that made you feel pretty.

Bucky was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter while eating an apple. You smiled in greeting as you walked in, grabbing a glass to fill with water. You sneaked a side glance at him like you always do when he's in the same room as you, catching his eyes already on you—drifting from the bottom of your dress up to your chest. You watched his adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallowed.

"That's a nice dress, sweetheart."

Goosebumps erupted across your skin at his low drawl, a warmth spreading in your core from the pet name. He had never called you that before.

He pushed off the counter and walked out of the kitchen, acting like those five words hadn't changed your whole day—your whole life.

Where once you thought the dress was pretty, you now saw it as a lifeline—tethering you to the hope that Bucky might just like you back. You found reasons to wear it more often; making an effort to hang out in the common spaces when you came back home wearing it, delaying changing into your comfortable clothes because Bucky wasn't home yet and you wanted him to see it. To see you.

The second moment was when the five of you were at a birthday party for one of Sam's army buddies.

Nat and Steve had left after only being there for half an hour—Nat giggling to you on their way out, telling you and the boys to hold off on coming back home for a couple of hours. Sam was in the lounge with a large crowd hanging on to his every word as he retold his war hero stories— to which Bucky was quick to throw you a look, raising his hands to mimic being strangled, making you laugh and receive dagger eyes from Sam.

The two of you made your way outside towards the game of beer pong being set up. Bucky was quick to accept their offer to join in and that's how you found yourself standing opposite him, a sticky fold out table between you—the ping pong ball in your hand shaking, your breath catching as his lips tilted into a smirk. His eyes were as dark as the sky, the moonlight making them twinkle with their own constellations—staring straight into yours with a silent challenge, daring you to miss your next shot. His tongue sweeping over his bottom lip stole your attention and your hand faltered, the ball almost dropping out of your grip.

"You got this, sweetheart."

Time slowed down as the ball left your hand, your eyes watching it sail through the crisp night air while Bucky watched you. It dropped to the table with a pathetic, dull tock—inches away from any of the red solo cups. Bucky's smile grew even more lopsided, his eyes gleaming with mirth.

"Better luck next time, angel."

What the fuck was with him calling you these stupid, heart stuttering, knee trembling pet names?

Your beer pong partner was quick to brush off your missed shot, chuckling at your flustered expression and offering to help you with your stance. The game continued with you almost missing every shot, your partner guiding you with hands on your hips in the hopes of you sinking a cup. His arms wrapped around your waist when you made your first successful shot, but it wasn't his attention that had your mind clouding—you couldn't even say it was the alcohol flowing through your veins. No, it was the look of pride on Bucky's face that had you freezing, everything else around you fading away until all that remained was shining midnight eyes and curved pink lips.

God, how you wished the arms around your waist were his.

The guys you were playing with retreated inside after the game ended, with your partner telling you to find him before you left, throwing you an easy smile over his shoulder.

Bucky and you lingered in the fresh air, slowly walking towards the backdoor, your bare arm brushing against his denim jacket with every step. Music and laughter trickled out of the open windows, the noise softening in the cool breeze before it reached you. Despite the calm, you felt your body vibrate with a persistent buzz—Bucky's close proximity and the beer you downed making it hard to find the line between your feelings and reality.

"You do realise he was flirting with you, right?" Bucky's voice broke the silence. You turned your head to find him already gazing at you—soft eyes a contradiction to his clenched jaw.

You scoffed, looking at him like he'd grown another head. "What, no he wasn't."

"Uh yeah, he definitely was. The 'let me fix your stance' play is the oldest trick in the book and has a pretty decent success rate." He chuckled softly, shaking his head with an uptick of a smile. "Not with you, though." He paused, giving you a teasing wink. "I'll keep that in mind."

The wink had your body flushing with heat, the words I'll keep that in mind burrowing into your lovesick heart and amplifying the buzzing. Your words stumbled on their way out."Th-there's no way he was flirting with me—he's way out of my league."

Bucky stopped in his tracks, turning to face you fully with a deep crease between his eyebrows. The gentle breeze swept a strand of hair over his face, your hand twitching with the need to brush it behind his ear.

His voice dropped low, the teasing tone subduing. "What are you on about? Tell me you know that's not true, doll."

You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling exposed and vulnerable under the intimacy of the dark sky. You shivered, not just from the cooling wind caressing your bare arms. You gave a small shrug in response.

Bucky started to take his jacket off, exposing the black t-shirt that hugged his biceps a little too tight for your sanity. "While I don't believe in the whole people being in different leagues thing, I can confidently say you are so far out of his league you're on a whole nother planet."

"…Are you saying I'm an alien?"

"If the shoe fits," Bucky responded, a fraction of his seriousness easing into a cheeky smile. He draped his jacket over your shoulders, his thumbs brushing the sides of your neck as he fixed the collar—another shiver running down your spine from his faint touch. The warm, rich scent of his cologne and him wrapped around you and dragged you under—the scent that you now associated with home.

Bucky's eyes met yours, the starlit blue swirling with something you couldn't quite decipher. His hands moved from the collar of his jacket to the hem, fingers toying with the rough fabric. "No, what I'm trying to say is that you're—" he licked his lips, trying to find the right words. "Any guy would be lucky to have you, but I don't think anyone is deserving of you."

Your brain short-circuited, the haze of rose coloured glasses starting to fall over your eyes—threatening to distort the Bucky in front of you with the one you stayed up late daydreaming about.

You found a smaller version of your voice. "I…I'm not that special, Buck."

He tugged on the hem, the force pulling the jacket tighter around your shoulders. "No? Then why are you the only person—other than Steve—that I let call me Buck?"

You stared at him, unblinking. You didn't realise other people didn't call him Buck—the nickname just slipped from your lips so naturally after the first month of living with him.

"One of these days, I'm going to make you see yourself how I do."

He leaned in, brushing the faintest of kisses on your forehead—the mere ghost of his lips burning your skin, eliciting a cascade of sparks to run down your body. He stepped back, stuffing his hands in his pockets and tilted his head towards the door.

"Let's get back inside before Sam tells everyone about the time he had to save you from a raccoon."

"He had very sinister looking eyes!" You cried indignantly. "And I was really stoned—remind me to never have one of Nat's brownies ever again."

The third moment happened during your bar's weekly quiz night.

The four of them were in their usual booth for the night—the one Sam demanded you reserve for them ever since you mentioned your work had a quiz night on Tuesdays. Nat and Steve were sitting on one side, each nursing a pint of craft beer, with Sam and Bucky sitting opposite them—the latter half hanging out of the booth with his hand raised in a beckoning gesture, shooting you one of those irresistible half smiles that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

You rolled your eyes at him, knowing exactly what he wanted—but you couldn't stay away from that smile, even if it was starting to get you in trouble at work.

You walked over to them, pocketing your pen and notepad before stopping next to Bucky, your eyebrows raised and arms folded.

"What do you want now?"

"Can I please place an order for the answer to question five?" Bucky held the quiz sheet up to you, pointing at the blank space next to number five like it was a menu. "Oh, and question eight." His smile evolved into a endearing grin, your heart aching traitorously at the sight.

"No."

The smile dropped a fraction, not expecting you to say no to his charm. "C'mon, you're the one here who knows niche pop culture the best—even Sam is stumped. I know you know the answers."

You nodded, looking at the sheet in his hand before his puppy dog eyes made you crumble. "You're right, I do. I'm not giving them to you, though."

"I thought I was your favourite." His voice dropped like he was genuinely upset, but his twitching cheeks gave away the smile he was suppressing. Sam scoffed next to him, Nat and Steve exchanged a knowing look. You ignored them.

Bucky put the sheet on the table, patting it softly like he was about to make a deal. "How 'bout this—I'll make you dinner for a week." He carefully watched your face, trying to find a crack in your resistance. "Two weeks."

You sighed, dropping your arms to your sides. "Bucky, the prize is only a fifty dollar bar tab."

Bucky shook his head. "It's not about the prize, it's about the glory of winning four weeks in a row." He squinted his eyes, tilting his head in the way you knew meant he was thinking—probably something stupid, too. "Wait—is there another prize for that?"

You scoffed, tempted to hit him with your notepad. "Yeah, you get put on the no entry list."

Nat and Steve snickered at Bucky's clearly offended face, and you bit your lip to hold back your smile—he looked too cute, it was tugging at your heart strings.

"Besides," you continued, "you only won them because you cheated."

He raised his hands in mock defence. "Hey, not my fault the pretty waitress was more than willing."

Sam choked on his beer, spluttering a mouthful onto the table. Your eyebrows skyrocketed, heat rushing to your cheeks and ears at his choice of words.

Bucky's cheeks lit up red and he ran a hand through his hair. "No—wait, I didn't—that wasn't what I meant." He nervously chuckled. "What I meant was that you're more than willing to help—help us…" He trailed off, turning and shooting Steve a look.

Some of the tension left your shoulders, along with some of the hope you always carried that Bucky liked you more than a friend. You cleared your throat, your heart rate struggling to slow down after 'pretty waitress'.

"Maybe I've grown a conscience." You looked slightly to your left, your eyes flicking to your manager standing at the end of the bar, narrowing her eyes at you.

Bucky chuckled softly, his confidence back even with his cheeks still glowing. He crossed his arms on the table, leaning towards you. "Are we gettin' you in trouble, sweetheart?"

"There's no we in this, Barnes. It's all you." Nat interjected, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at him. He gave her a dismissive wave, his eyes still looking at you expectantly.

"She said if you win one more time then she's going to put me on the bar for quiz nights—something about testing a theory…" You admitted quietly. You watched his blue eyes soften, his previous amusement dissipating.

"Well, we can't have that happening." He said, serious. "I would stop coming to quiz night."

"Yeah, right." Sam muttered into his beer.

"You'd be on the no entry list anyways, Buck." You said to Bucky, your tone lilting jokingly.

He tilted his head, the right side of his mouth twitching, his eyes looking like a sky full of secrets.

"You wouldn't do that to me, doll. You like me too much."

Your stomach dropped at his low voice, his words piercing right into the chamber of your heart he had unknowingly etched his name on. A breath got stuck in your throat, your usual witty banter getting lost in the sea of thoughts that only screamed his name.

Like an angel pulling you from a seizing riptide, your managers voice called out your name—saving you from saying something stupid, something that exposed how you had gone past the boundary of like six months ago, stepping into a dangerous territory that could tear you apart.

"Duty calls," you laughed out breathlessly, pointing a thumb over your shoulder. You turned on your heels and walked away like you were on fire.

Sam's low mutter made its way to you through the hum of soft pop music and chatter. "Get a room already, for fuck's sake."

Your shoe scuffed on the hardwood floor, your feet almost tripping over each other. You caught your balance—narrowly avoiding falling and making a fool of yourself in front of the guy you're hopelessly in love with.

You reached your manager waiting at the end of the bar, overcome with the desire to kiss her in gratitude.

"I need you to cover the bar while Dean has a smoke. He'll be ten minutes, tops."

You nodded your okay, used to covering the bar for your coworkers breaks. "Unless a pretty girl walks past, then he'll be at least thirty."

Your manager hummed in agreement. "Remind me to dock his pay for pulling that shit on Saturday. Boy gets enough tips from his flirting to make up for it."

You exchanged a small laugh, walking around her to go behind the bar. She touched your forearm as you passed, stopping you with a gentle touch.

"Word of advice?" She started, voice a little quieter. "Don't screw the crew."

You stared at her with furrowed brows, confused. "What? I would never sleep with Dean, that's just—ew, who knows how many untreated diseases he has." You visibly shuddered your disgust at the idea of hooking up with your coworker who was always chasing tail.

She nodded her head in the direction you came from. "They're your roommates, right?" You nodded slowly. "Hon, you look at him like you can't decide whether you want to run in the opposite direction or get on your knees."

Heat rose beneath your skin, your body freezing in mortification. You gaped at her, your mouth opening and closing until you pushed out a forced laugh.

"What—you're—that's ridiculous. You should get your eyes checked because that's, like," you laughed nervously, panic starting to burn through your rib cage, "he's like…a brother to me?" You phrased it like a question, your voice rising uncharacteristically high at the end.

She gave you a deadpan look, not buying a lick of your bullshit. Your shoulders dropped in defeat, your teeth starting to tear at your inner cheek.

"Is it…am I really that obvious?"

She sighed, her hand on your arm giving a reassuring squeeze. "I've worked with you long enough to know when someone is making you uncomfortable, when you're seconds away from exploding at a condescending customer, or when you want to jump over the bar and climb a guy like a tree." She paused for a second, pursuing her lips in thought. "Funnily enough, they all looked like him."

She let go of your arm, nodding towards the bar. "Now, stop thinking about fucking your roommate and get to work. I'm pretty sure table seven just ordered six espresso martini's." She gave your ass a friendly swat, pushing you behind the bar and making you throw your head back with a startled laugh.

You grabbed the docket from the POS printer, seeing an order for five espresso martini's and one spicy mango margarita. You walked down to the cocktail section, hands moving on autopilot as you prepared the margarita first.

Your eyes flicked up out of habit, your attention drawing towards the booth your roommates had practically scratched their names into—finding a pair of piercing blue eyes already gazing at you. The tequila bottle in your hand shook.

Don't screw the crew.

The last moment occurred during a typical movie night, where yours and Sam's raised voices warranted a domestic disturbance call from your neighbours.

"Oh my god, we are not watching Top Gun for the third time this month!" You exclaimed exasperatedly, throwing your head back against the couch with a groan.

Sam scoffed from his spot sprawled on his stupidly large beanbag—the one you're fairly certain is a dog bed for a Great Dane. "Oh, like your suggestions are any better? You made us sit through a fucking Twilight marathon a couple weeks ago! That's precious time I'll never get back."

You glared at him. "That's bullshit, Wilson—I didn't make you do anything. You chose to sit in that exact same spot and watch all five movies." A mocking smile twitched your lips. "And, if I remember correctly, you were the one asking me to pause the movie while you went to get more snacks."

Sam shook his head adamantly. "No, what's bullshit is your taste in movies—I only sat through it so you wouldn't feel bad!"

Nat and Steve were cuddled up on the couch perpendicular to you, their eyes darting back and forth between you and Sam like they were watching a tennis match. Bucky was sitting on the other end of the couch you were on, legs spread wide with a soda in one hand—his eyes shooting daggers at Sam.

You let out a harsh laugh. "Oh, really? So you crying when you thought Carlisle was dead was just you not wanting me to feel bad?"

"Yes!" Sam yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. Then he paused, processing what you just said. "Wait, no—there was no crying! I just acted sad for your benefit."

You opened your mouth to refute his statement when a deep, husky voice rumbled out from next to you.

"Sam," Bucky started, tone low and final, "stop lying, I saw you wiping your eyes." He continued glaring at Sam, his shoulders more tense than they were a minute ago. "Apologise to her so we can move on."

Sam looked at him like he had lost his mind. "Apologise? What the fuck do I have to apologise for?"

Bucky nodded towards you, darkened blue eyes still narrowed at Sam menacingly. "You said her taste in movies was bullshit. Apologise."

You were suddenly speechless—not sure how your usual movie night bickering with Sam led to Bucky being so…commanding. Protective.

You looked over to the other couch, catching Nat's eye—her mouth overtaken by a knowing smile. Your eyes darted to Steve next to her, his cheeks tinted pink and eyes squinted as he looked at his best friend—a sly smile partially hidden by the can he brought to his lips.

Sam shook his head with a disbelieving laugh, grabbing the TV remote off the coffee table.

Bucky reached out a long leg, giving Sam's beanbag a firm kick. "Now."

"Jesus," Sam dragged out, "chill out, man." He turned to you with a sigh, brown eyes glinting as he gave you his best puppy dog expression. "I am truly sorry for calling your movie taste bullshit. I will gladly sit through ten Twilight marathons if that's what you want."

He turned to Bucky with a smug grin. "There, I apologised to your girl. You happy now?"

A breath hitched in your throat, your brain freezing and going offline.

Your girl.

Said so easily, so naturally. Like it was a fact and not a mocking taunt.

Goosebumps prickled across your skin, a pleased shiver running through you at the thought of being Bucky's girl.

Bucky glared at Sam, the apples of his cheeks dusting pink. "Very." He said before leaning forward and snatching the remote out of Sam's hand. He turned to you, cheeks still flushed but eyes considerably softer. "What do you want to watch, doll?"

"…Shrek 2."

Groans erupted from three of your roommates, the fourth keeping his eyes on you while he shook his head with a fond laugh—the one that showed his pearlescent teeth and crinkled his eyes. The one that was your damnation, sentencing you to a life of yearning and false hope.

"It's the soundtrack, right?"

You nodded eagerly, a bright smile making your cheeks ache. "I knew you would get me, Buck."

You faintly heard a fake gagging sound come from the nuisance being swallowed by a beanbag, but you couldn't care less. Not when Bucky was looking at you like you were an astronomical phenomenon.

Condensation beaded glasses stained the wooden tabletop, chewed paper straws slowly disintegrating in melted ice. A half eaten bowl of fries grew stale in the middle of the table—your manager's attempt to get some food in her staff while they abused the (prepaid) leftover function alcohol, yourself included. The disco ball was still spinning, sending a thousand shards of light dancing throughout the empty bar, while an ABBA track murmured softly beneath laughter and gossip.

"I'm telling you," Dean said, spreading his arms over the back of the booth, "the ladies can't get enough of me."

The booth packed full of your coworkers vibrated with long groans, someone to your left loudly booing and your manager threatening to throw her gin and tonic in his face. You shoved his arm off the seat behind you, earning yourself a pinch to your cheek as his arm retreated.

"I'm serious!" Dean continued, pulling his phone out of his jean's pocket. "One of them even left a review about me last week—hold up, I'll get it." He squinted against the glowing light from his screen, bringing up the bar's google page to show everyone.

"Here it is—last Saturday: bartender was cute, would drink here again. Five stars." He leaned back in the booth with a smug smile, barely reacting when your manager ripped his phone out of his hand.

"Did you see who left the review, dingus?" She asked him, her mocking smirk overpowering his. "I don't know about you, but I don't know any ladies who go by the name James." She waved the phone in his face before going back to reading the review.

Dean recovered quickly, holding his hands up with a shrug. "I'm not opposed to having male admirers—they're some of my biggest tips."

You snorted a laugh. "Oh, I bet they are."

The table dissolved into laughter around you, the liquor and line cook's joint lowering everyone's inhibitions.

Your manager looked up from the phone at you, her eyes lighting up. "Weren't you also working on the bar last Saturday?"

You took a sip of your drink, lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug. "I think so? Was that the night we had two bachelorette parties come in?"

"Yeah, we ran out of cold brew because of them." Dean said. "I set a new record for how many numbers I could get in one night."

You rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore him like everyone else at the table. "Yeah, I was definitely on the bar—my arms are still aching from shaking espresso martini's all night."

Your manager leaned forward, her glassy eyes glinting at you teasingly. "I think this review is about you," she said in a sing-song tone.

You couldn't help but feel a little giddy at someone leaving you a review calling you cute, even if they were most likely stumbling drunk.

Allie—your fellow waitress who was sitting on the other side of Dean—grabbed the phone and read the review herself, scrolling on the screen with her eyes growing wider until a delighted gasp left her.

She looked at you with a beaming smile. "This James guy has been leaving reviews about you for months."

"What?"

She nodded eagerly, a small squeal leaving her. "This is so good, nothing this exciting ever happens here!" She was almost bouncing in her seat as she looked back at the phone, her excitement shaking the booth. "Okay, this one is from Valentines Day: waitress's frown is cute, I still should've bought her flowers." She fell back against the booth seat, clutching the phone to her chest with a dreamy sigh.

Your heart stuttered, the tipsy fog in your head clouding further. "That's—it doesn't say my name…" you trailed off with a nervous laugh. "It could be about any of the waitresses."

Your manager snorted. "We called you sourpuss the whole shift, you wouldn't stop frowning."

Before you could start your rant about how Valentine's Day is just another highly commercialised holiday and people shouldn't need a specific day of the year to celebrate love, Allie started reading out another review.

"This one is from four months ago: come to this bar if you want to see a real-life angel."

Dean groaned, "that's so fucking cheesy." He turned to look at you, "I hope you're not falling for this shit."

"We don't even know if it's about me!"

"I think it's cute," the new waitress piped in from the other end of the booth. "You've got a secret admirer."

"More like a stalker." One of the line cooks mumbled.

"Oh," Allie gasped, "this man has it bad. These are borderline love confessions." She reached past Dean, handing you his phone with the review page still open.

You hesitantly grabbed the phone from her, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. There's no way some guy was leaving these reviews about you…right? That just seems insane, like something out of a romcom. Or something that will end with a restraining order and you moving states away.

The phone faintly trembled in your unsteady hands, your eyes narrowing against the screen's bright glare.

James B.

★★★★★ a month ago

Wars were started over smiles less beautiful than hers.

Oh.

That's maybe the most romantic thing anyone has ever said about you.

You don't know if it's about you.

You exhaled shakily, shrugging nonchalantly as you handed the phone back to Dean. "He could be talking about any of the waitresses." You repeated your earlier statement. And then for good measure—"It's hardly a compliment—wars are started over literally anything."

Allie looked at you with wide eyes, bringing her hands up and shaking them in a strangling motion.

"Do you know anyone called James?" Your manager probed, clearly invested.

"No." You answered, ignoring the dull, tingling sensation at the back of your head. "No one significant."

"Well, even if he does turn out to be a stalker, at least he boosted our ratings."

Over the next few weeks, your coworkers had made it their personal mission to find out the identity of James B. Your manager had the brilliant idea to set up a weekly bar tab giveaway—for people to be in the draw they just needed to put their business card in a jar on the bar. What your customers didn't know was that every Friday after close, Allie and Dean were emptying the jar not to find a lucky winner but to look for any cards with the name James B.

It turned out there were a few more James B.'s than they were expecting, and there were no other parameters to narrow down their search. And much to their chagrin, you didn't recognise any of their names.

"Wait!" Dean exclaimed, holding a finger in the air. "Why don't we just reply to one of his reviews?"

"Oh," Allie said, leaning forward in her chair, "that's actually kind of smart. Maybe we could say we have a thank you gift for our number one fan?"

"Or we could just ask who he is."

Something about that made you uneasy.

After the night you all first discovered the reviews, Allie had drawn up a timeline of them which revealed this James guy had been leaving reviews for a year. And while they never mentioned your name, everyone knew they were about you—but you didn't want to believe that; it felt absolutely insane.

Majority of the reviews were brief and mundane, similar to the first one Dean saw. But a few of them…they read like poetry, like the pages out of someone's journal. They mentioned your smile, how your laugh could cure any ailment, that being in your presence was like witnessing a supernova.

It was beautiful and terrifying.

And every day it was looking more like a stalker than someone you knew—you didn't want to give him attention in fear that it could evolve from something harmless to dangerous.

"Already tried that," your manager sighed next to you. "He didn't reply."

Something in the atmosphere felt off when you shouldered the brownstone's front door open with a heavy sigh. It was well past midnight on a Saturday, and the soft murmuring you would usually hear coming from the lounge—Sam had a habit of passing out in front of the TV on Saturday night's—was nonexistent. You didn't think much of it, your mind single-focused on needing a scolding hot shower to wash away the ten hour bar shift.

Your work uniform was drenched and sticking to you uncomfortably, a crust of sugary cocktails and beer lining your skin. It had been one disaster after another—the beer keg soaking you as you tried to tap it, the cocktail shaker exploding in your hands, the new waitress who failed to call out "behind" and you ended up covered in a customers chili cheese fries.

You welcomed the boiling water, scrubbing your skin until it was red and raw. Visible steam swirled from your body even after you retreated into your room, and only then did some of the tension ease from your shoulders. Your fatigue ran bone deep—it felt like you were dragging your feet through mud as you slowly started your nighttime routine.

A noise cut through the eerily silent night, soft and faint, but an unmistakable echo from the room next to yours. It made you pause, your eyebrows drawing together. Then more noise followed, three breathy high pitched moans that the wall separating your rooms failed to drown out. A hot realisation curdled your stomach, rising through your body until it settled in your chest and throat—a tight, unrelenting fist clenching and making it harder to breathe.

Bucky had company.

Your ears zeroed in on the noises against your wishes. The last thing you wanted was to hear the guy you had a debilitating crush on fuck someone else. And yet, you stood frozen—your towel still wrapped around you, water dripping onto the floor, heart trying to beat out of your chest. Your nervous system had entered fight or flight mode, triggered by the sounds of another woman's pleasure.

Sweat started to line your back, your hands trembling where they were clutching the towel, chest stuttering as your breaths turned sharp and quick.

The moans grew in volume and soft thuds reverberated against the wall—then, a faint low murmuring graced your ears. A deep voice you would recognise anywhere, that you had heard through the wall plenty of times during your one year living there.

You snapped out of your shock, ripping open your work bag to find your headphones. Your phone shook in your hands as you searched for 'calming' playlists, your thumb jabbing violently at the first result. You turned the volume up loud enough to vibrate your eardrums, but the damage was already done.

You paced the length of your room, clenching and unclenching your fists in an effort to calm down—to will your racing heartbeat to slow, to tamp down the spiralling thoughts that made you feel like you were drowning.

You got ready for bed in a blur, trying to stay as quiet as possible with your heart beating wildly in your throat. The exhaustion that had your bones aching after your shift was lingering, but had been overwhelmed by the adrenaline surging through your veins. You laid in your bed, trying to concentrate on your breathing.

Inhale. One, two, three, four.

Hold. One, two—

It didn't sound like she was faking it.

The breath rushed out of you quickly.

You squeezed your eyes shut tight, clenching your fists and trying to focus on the sensation.

Inhale. One, two, three—

Bucky's bed is pressed up against your shared wall.

You grabbed the pillow next to you and pressed it against your face, something between a pained whimper and frustrated groan leaving your throat.

Did he like to talk? Was he whispering dirty things in her ear, telling her how good she felt, how much he wanted her? Did she get to hear him moan and whimper?

The music in your ears had become irritating, overstimulating you even more. But there was no way in hell you were taking your headphones off—your heart was already broken enough.

Did he call her sweetheart, too?

You slept for two hours, maybe three if you were being generous. The exhaustion won out against the anxiety around two am, only for you to jerk awake two hours later when the same noises echoed through the wall. At some point in the night your headphones had slipped off and you were defenceless against the noises your body had already filed as a threat.

Your nervous system reacted as if you were being hunted down by a lion, not overhearing your roommate-slash-crush have sex. It was a horrible way to wake up—your body pumping full of adrenaline and cortisol before you even took a deep breath.

The headphones went back on a second too late—leaving a scratched record of giggles looping through your head that the music couldn't drown out. One giggle that you knew well, that had you beaming with pride whenever you coaxed it out of him.

A silent tear slid down towards your ear, disappearing into your hairline as you stared at the ceiling.

Hours passed before it felt safe for you take the headphones off, and even then anxiety gripped your chest whenever you thought about leaving your room. Everything that had once felt safe, had once felt like your solace, now felt like a prison.

You knew you were being dramatic, knew that your jealousy and hurt was unreasonable. Bucky wasn't yours, he would never be yours—you knew that, you'd always known that. But that's the thing with crushes—they are irrational, uncontrollable beasts that mistake kindness for attraction, that disguise inevitable heartbreak as fluttering butterflies.

Opening your bedroom door slowly, you saw the flash of a towel dart into Bucky's room—two faint sets of giggles sounding behind the closed door, slicing into your aching heart. Heat burst behind your eyes and you willed the tears to stay at bay—at least until the shower could drown out your sobs.

You sat on the floor of the shower, staring at the wall while hot water rained down on you, each drop feeling like a knife piercing your skin. You sat there, unblinking, as your vision blurred—the water washing away your endless tears. You sat there as the shower stream changed from a burning fire to an icy bite, your body shivering but unmoving.

Nat's banging on the door about rising water prices snapped you out of your dissociative daze.

"Bucky! Oh, fuck—don't stop, please—"

"Yeah? You like that?"

"Yes—god, so much!"

"You feel so good, baby."

Thump, thump, thump.

You had taken your headphones off for half a minute while getting changed. All it took was thirty seconds for tears to swell in your eyes and a silent scream to claw at your throat.

It had been four weeks since you first heard them. Four weeks of knowing your crush was fucking someone else less than three metres from your bed. Four weeks of debilitating anxiety and heartache consuming you until there was nothing left to take.

You knew their routine; she came over every Wednesday and Saturday, always after ten pm. Depending on your roster for the week, sometimes you were home when she came over—subjected to hearing Bucky's low baritone greet her at the door, their footsteps padding down the hall past your room, the soft click of his door closing and the giggles that followed.

You fucking hated giggles.

By the end of the second week, you had put in a request to work the closing shift every Wednesday and Saturday. The tightness in your chest and churning in your stomach never faded, but you took some comfort in knowing you would only be in the same house as her for a few hours. You hadn't met her—you didn't even know her name—but you were envious of a faceless woman, a voice you heard in the dark, because she had the one thing you wanted but could never have.

No one brought her up—there were no casual chats between the boys, no probing questions from Nat. Apart from the first time, she was out of the house by six am—narrowly avoiding Sam and Steve leaving for their morning run. You weren't even sure they knew she existed—not until Nat gave you a sympathetic smile over a glass of wine, confirming that they did in fact know without uttering a word.

The usual nights the five of you spent together continued as normal. Or, at least as normal as you could manage. The space between you and Bucky grew—he stopped trying to charm quiz answers out of you, and you hugged the arm of the couch like it was a life preserver during movie night. The soft conversations over morning coffee ceased to exist, the nights of you two reading together in the lounge just a hazy memory.

The distance made your heart yearn for him while his proximity made your nervous system overload. It was a push and pull that sucked the life out of you, exhausting you until you were a shell of who you used to be.

When Sam asked you what your first heartbreak was you instantly thought of Liam Turner from the sixth grade. He was the classic class clown that both charmed and annoyed all the girls in your grade. He sat next to you during History and English, always pestering you for help and trying to make you his partner in crime. You did what any smitten eleven year old girl would do—you handed him a note. It was simple, you didn't even write your name—just "do you like me" with tick boxes for yes and no. You handed it to him before recess and watched with bated breath as he ran to his group of friends, watched as all of them turned to you and fell into hysterics. You crashed into your mom's arms once you got home from school, sobs wracking your body as you felt like you were going to die from the crushing sensation in your chest.

What you felt that day wasn't even a drop in the agony that consumed you when you walked into the lounge for movie night.

"You're late!" Nat yelled, her voice travelling down the hall as you rushed through the front door.

"I know, I know," you yelled back, heading for your room and changing out of your work clothes in record time. You made your way towards the lounge once in comfy clothes. "The health inspector would not stop asking me questions, no matter how many times I told him I'm not the—"

Your feet and words came to a halt once you reached the doorway to the lounge, your heart dropping to the floor and shattering into a million pieces.

Because there she was—sitting in your usual spot with her feet resting on Bucky's lap, one of his hands engulfing her ankles.

She was beautiful. And the complete opposite to you in every way possible. From the texture and colour of her hair to the shape of her body. From the clothing and jewellery she wore to the colour of her eyes.

The two of you weren't even comparable—you were from completely different planets, different universes.

It hit like a sucker punch. You weren't his type, not even close.

You're a fucking fool.

She smiled brightly at you, the white of her teeth glaring. You faintly heard her great you through the ringing in your ears, offering you her name. You managed a meek hi in response, dragging your wide eyes away from her over to the other couch.

Big mistake.

Nat and Steve were already looking at you with pity in their eyes, a silent "are you okay?" written all over their faces. Nat scooted closer to Steve, tilting her head towards the small open spot next to her on the couch. You knew the second you sat next to them that her comforting presence would wrap around you and tear away the last of your fraying composure. So, you did something you had never done before.

"Move it, bird brain." You muttered to Sam, squatting down next to his beanbag and shoving his shoulder to make room for you.

"You ever tried not being bossy?" He grumbled in reply, shuffling to the right so you could collapse down next to him.

Normally you would respond with something just as snarky. But that required mental energy that you did not possess—energy that was being drained with each passing second she sat behind you.

You settled into the beanbag, the rustling of polystyrene beads filling the quiet room. You tried to take calming breaths as subtly as possible, the blood from your broken heart clogging your throat and lungs.

"We're watching Interstellar tonight," Nat spoke softly. "Steve's pick."

You hummed, keeping your eyes glued to the TV screen as Steve navigated through the streaming app.

Sam stiffened next to you, turning to you with a peculiar look on his face. "What? You got nothing to say to that?"

You sighed. "Every white guy's number one film on letterboxd. Try being less predictable next time, Rogers." You said in a flat monotone.

A deep, breathy chuckle sounded behind you, and it took all of your diminishing willpower to not turn and get a glimpse of the soft smile that haunted your dreams.

You tried your best to focus on the movie, you really did. You tried to focus on the press of Sam's shoulder against yours, something tangible to keep you grounded. But nothing could distract you from the soft murmuring behind you, the sound of her giggles as Bucky provided commentary throughout the movie. It was something that you normally didn't mind, something you indulged in, even. Not tonight. Thirty minutes into the movie, your eye had developed a constant twitch from suppressing the urge to turn around and tell them to shut the fuck up.

At one point Sam's hand had fallen over both of yours, stopping you from picking at your bleeding hangnails. You didn't even notice the sting from the exposed wounds—too preoccupied with gnawing on the inside of your cheeks.

You walked into your shift the next day with another request.

You clocked into your shift on Tuesday afternoon with a sinking pit in your stomach. A feeling that you had become accustomed to over the last couple months, a feeling that had you walking the scenic route home at night, delaying your arrival. It was the feeling that you had started associating with home, along with the ache in your chest.

You loved quiz night—you loved seeing what stupid team names people came up with, loved judging them when they got such an obvious answer wrong. Once upon a time, you had loved seeing Bucky's handsome face sitting in your section, waving you over with an up to no good smile stretching his lips. Now, it all felt like a taunt.

Nothing was out of the ordinary—the opening shift said it had been quiet as usual, there had been a couple bookings from newcomers for quiz night, and the tabby cat that wandered the block came in to say hi.

And then, she walked in. Strolling in behind Nat and Steve, her arm looped through one of Bucky's, flashing you a kind smile as they made their way to their usual booth. In your section.

You wanted to scream. Cry. Jump into the East River.

The bar had become your safe place—which honestly sounded crazy, you hated half of the customers. But your home hadn't felt like your home since she walked through the door. And now she was in the one place that hadn't been tarnished.

She was nice, you knew she was. But she was a constant reminder that your heart belonged to a man who never looked at you twice.

You rushed over to Allie who was standing at the bar waiting for Dean to finish garnishing cocktails.

"I need you to swap sections with me—please." You said in a frantic breath.

She turned to you, her face already telling you her answer. "Hell no! I've got two tables of big tipper's—I am not giving that away."

Dean leaned his elbows on the bar. "I'll swap with you."

Your head whipped to him at a comical speed, your wide eyes meeting his unbothered grin. "…But you hate working the floor."

He nodded towards one of your tables—one of the newcomer bookings, a booth full of girls in their early twenties. A few of them were already looking over at your trio—more specifically, looking at Dean. You turned back in time to see him flash them a wink.

Your chest deflated with a relieved breath. "This is the only time I am ever going to be grateful for you being such a dog."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't." You and Allie said at the same time, matching deadpan expressions on your faces.

Allie turned to you, squinting suspiciously. "Why do you want to swap?"

You shrugged, looking at her forehead to avoid eye contact. "Just felt like a change."

"You said please—pretty desperately, too. It was kinda hot." Dean piped in.

You glared at him, choosing not to acknowledge his comment. You turned back to Allie looking at you expectantly. "Variety is the spice of life?"

She hummed disbelievingly. "Mhm, sure. We'll talk later."

Working the bar brought you no reprieve; every time you walked to the cocktail station, they were in your direct eyeline. Every time you poured a cosmo, shook a lemon drop, garnished a mojito, you could hear them laughing. You watched how she fit in like the missing puzzle piece, her body slotting perfectly under Bucky's arm—like that's where she belonged. You watched your roommates welcome her in with open arms and crying laughter, the realisation hitting you that she replaced the temporary hole your absence had opened.

Your knees were shaking while you closed up the bar, your hands scrubbing the beer grates with an urgency that was cause for concern.

"Hey, hey, woah that's—" Dean came up next to you, his hands gently clasping your wrists. "That's enough," he said, uncharacteristically gentle, "your hands are bleeding." He brought your hands up, your unfocused eyes seeing spots of red raised on your knuckles.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. What's up with you today?"

Dean led you away from the bar, grabbing a first aid kit on your way over to where your manager and Allie were sitting, working through the next week's orders. He pushed you into a chair, stepping back with an awkward pat to your head.

"I'm sensing that this is a girl talk so I'm just gonna finish closing the bar."

The two women turned to you with concern painting their faces. Allie glanced down at your hands and opened the first aid kit, pulling out supplies to treat the cuts. Neither of them spoke while she tended to your hands, watching your face closely.

"These aren't too bad, just scrapes." She said softly, packing the kit back up and sitting it out of the way. She clasped your hands lightly, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hands. "What's going on, sweetie?"

You looked up from where you had been staring at the table, seeing her eyes and your manager's shining with worry. A silent tear slipped from your eye, leaving a damp path in it's wake.

"Whose kneecaps are we busting?" Your manager demanded.

That broke you.

Your shoulders started shaking, your throat closing in on itself in the form of a sob. Your heart escaped from your chest cavity, rising up like bile. Your vision was completely blurred, hot tears taking your eyes hostage. You caved in on yourself, wrapping your arms around your body as your frame trembled like a leaf.

You couldn't even feel embarrassed about bawling like a baby in front of your coworkers, the pain you had been sheltering for months overruling any other emotion. Allie wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her warmth and making you cry harder. Your manager placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, her thumb rubbing calming patterns as they both whispered words of comfort to you.

You gasped for breath, trying to get some air past the ball in your throat. "I-It's so—" your words broke with a hiccup, "it's so fucking stupid." You rushed out. "We were never—ugh!" You wiped at your cheeks furiously, willing the tears to stop. You gulped down a deep breath, trying to focus on the comforting touches and not the agony vibrating every cell in your body.

"We were never anything. God, I'm sobbing over a guy that—he was only being nice, and I made it into something it wasn't." You garbled out, the brine of tears lining your lips.

You opened up to them, telling them about how deeply you fell for Bucky in between sobs. How you felt like a goddamn fool, your lovesick heart reading into things and mistaking your strictly platonic relationship as something else entirely. You told them how you hate going home most nights, finding it harder to breathe the closer you got to the brownstone. You admitted to them that it's not just jealousy over him with another girl, it's something deeper—the fear that you've been replaced, that he doesn't need you anymore.

"…my sleep is fucked, I'm on high alert every second I'm home—I don't feel safe in my own home. Which—I know, it sounds so fucking dramatic. But it's like she's seeped into every crack, changing the foundations I built over a year ago. Now she's turning up here—on fucking quiz night, my night—and I just can't escape." You finished with a deep breath, feeling drained from your emotional monologue.

Allie, who had kept her arms wrapped around you throughout your rambling, lifted her head and looked at you with a mix of understanding and sympathy. "That's why you wanted to swap sections, because she was here." You nodded meekly.

She sighed and sat back in her chair. "Give me a couple days to clear out my spare room. You need it more than I need a second closet."

Before you could start sobbing over her offer a muscular arm reached in front of you, depositing a vodka cranberry onto the table.

Dean's voice rumbled behind you. "If it makes you feel any better, I've wanted to sleep with you since my first shift."

"Dean," both women next to you hissed. You turned to look at him, catching that easy-going smile of his and you started laughing—the first genuine one in weeks.

Thursday 6:18pm

Nat: Hey, you working late tonight? The boys are getting restless, Sam is threatening to watch Top Gun if you're not home in 10…

You: shit i forgot to tell you i'm working thursday nights now! sam can watch whatever mediocre garbage he wants :-)

Nat: We can change movie night to another night! Maybe Sunday? Whatever works for you x

You: don't worry about it, thursdays work for everyone else!

Nat: Is everything ok? I feel like I hardly see you anymore :(

You: aw i'm sorry natty :-( just been picking more shifts up at work - boss has me training the newbies! promise we'll have a wine night soon xx

"I'm moving out."

It was the Sunday after that fateful quiz night, the sun beating down on your four roommates as they laid out in the backyard. Sam was going on about some barbeque he had been invited to—telling the other three that if they behaved he would let them join him. Nat's head was resting on Steve's chest, half asleep while he massaged her scalp. Bucky was lying with a hand behind his head, shirtless, and reading his well-loved copy of The Fellowship of the Ring.

Allie had sent you a photo of her spare room an hour before, a bottle of Tito's sitting on the floor the only thing in the empty room. You couldn't put off telling your roommates any longer, knowing that once you moved out you would start feeling like a human again. You stood in the doorway, arms tight across your body—fearing for their reactions.

Sam stopped talking abruptly, Nat jolted awake and sat up from Steve's chest, Bucky slowly lowered his book to his chest. Nat was the first to speak.

"What?" She asked softly.

You started to shuffle your feet, looking around the backyard—at the fairy lights that flickered like dying stars, the small veggie patch Steve cared for like it was his child—avoiding eye contact with them. "You remember Allie from the bar? We've gotten really close these past few months and she was looking for a roommate—kinda felt like a no-brainer, y'know?"

You finally looked at them, your heart beat rattling your jaw. Sam looked speechless, his face frozen in confusion. Nat was looking at you with that assessing gaze, her eyes squinting like she knew something else was going on. Steve nodded his head solemnly, his features pulled into a frown that looked out of place on him. Bucky had abandoned his book completely, sitting upright with his pretty lips downturned, his sunglasses hiding whatever emotions swam in his cerulean depths.

"I can sort out getting the room filled—can probably pay double rent if necessary—"

"I'll handle it." Bucky cut you off, his tone gruff and curt.

You wrung your hands together, hating being under the spotlight of your roommate's attention. "Are you sure? It's a bit late notice so it might be hard to—"

That same curtness cut you off again,"I said I'll handle it, didn't I?"

He probably wanted his girlfriend to move in.

Your three other roommates momentarily directed their bewildered stares to him, just as surprised as you at his bluntness. Just like Steve frowning, this was out of character for him. You could feel his eyes glaring holes into you through his sunglasses.

Nat shook her head at his attitude, turning her attention back to you. "I didn't know you wanted to move out."

Okay, time for the lies—just like you practiced in the mirror.

"It's not about wanting to move out," you started softly, "it's just something that naturally unfolded. Her landlord upped her rent last month and she can't afford it on her own anymore." Steve and Sam nodded along, while Nat was looking at you with that unwavering stare. You didn't even want to glance at Bucky. "She jokingly asked me over drinks a couple weeks ago if I was looking and after thinking on it, I think it's the best choice for me. It's closer to work, cheaper than what I currently pay and, as I said, we've become really good friends."

Nat continued squinting her eyes at you, watching as you fidgeted with your fingers—your tell that you would rather be anywhere else.

"Okay," she acquiesced. "When are you moving? We'll throw a little goodbye party."

"Great idea," Sam mumbled.

"Sometime in the next week." Everyone's eyebrows shot up at that. "And that's not necessary—I'd prefer it if you didn't do anything; it's not like I'm leaving the city, I'll only be a few blocks away."

Steve recovered from the brief shock at how soon you were leaving them. "Let us know what day and time, we'll help you move your stuff."

"I appreciate the help, really I do, but my coworkers have already offered—we have Dean to do all the heavy lifting."

That made Bucky stir, standing up with a scoff and arms folded across his chest. "Did you think about us at all? Sounds like you can't wait to get away from here."

You froze, the ice running through your veins equal to the frost in his tone. "That's not—I didn't want to bother you—"

"How can you think you bother us after all this time?" He asked, the frost melting into water—revealing something that trembled close to desperation.

"Bucky," Nat warned.

"I just don't understand," He snapped, shaking his head and walking towards where you were stuck in the doorway. He paused in front of you, his sun slicked chest making your heart gallop. You kept your eyes on his chin—locking on the clef still visible through heavy stubble, resisting the desire to glance at his naked chest, or worse, look into his eyes. "Mind letting me through?" He muttered lowly, his frame now blocking you from the sun. You ducked your head, pressing your back to the doorframe to give him space.

"Buck—"

"Not now, Steve." He bit out, your body absorbing the heat radiating from him as he brushed past you. You stood still, head tilted to the floor until you heard his door slam closed.

"Well, that was…" Steve started, his uneasy chuckle filling the heavy atmosphere.

The shock of his attitude left you dazed. You expected some blow back from Nat—she could read you like her favourite book, knowing the emotions you held within yourself better than you did. You expected—hoped, really—that they might be a little down about your departure, but Bucky acting like this wasn't even in your realm of possibility.

"What was that about?" You muttered to yourself.

Sam stood up with a huff, grabbing a beer from the cooler near the table. "Fucking idiots, the pair of you."

You timed the move for the following Wednesday, not wanting to risk another night of hearing what you had labelled your own personal torture. You had been working nights since Sunday, avoiding any interactions with your roommates. The vibe in the brownstone felt off, the air tasting stale even when you were the only one home. Nat had been texting you for updates, apologising for Bucky's strange behaviour, and assuring you your friendship with her wouldn't slip away after you were gone. Sam continued to send you memes—he had an affinity for the gradient instagram reels—and Steve saved you the best strawberries from his garden, hiding them in the fridge for you.

Bucky was radio silent.

Tuesday 5:36pm

Nat: Just spoke to Allie - apparently you're not working quiz night anymore?? What's going on?

You: we thought the new waitress should work it for a bit! good experience :-)

Nat: You should come join us then! We would be unstoppable with you on our team xx

You: maybe another time? don't want the other teams to think you have an unfair advantage lol

Nat: Fuck what they think. We miss you! Movie night was not the same without you last week :(

A month passed before you saw Bucky again.

You had been texting Nat on and off, feeling an awful reluctance to seeing her. It had nothing to do with Nat and everything to do with you continuing to avoid the problem—your feelings. Because you still thought about him, religiously so. You hated yourself for it—hated your brain conjuring up scenarios of him and her, replaying the happiness that glowed on his face the couple of times you saw them together.

Your sleep had improved, at least. There was no anxiety constricting your chest when you walked home, no fear for what you might hear through the walls. Allie encouraged you to cry it out on the bathroom floor, over tubs of ice cream on the couch. While it was horrible to address and to actually feel the heartbreak instead of intellectualising it, you had to admit you did feel lighter. It was a weight off your chest for someone else to know your secret, to let you speak about the pain and not forcing you to move on.

Your manager was quick to approve your request to work the day shifts—asking if you wanted to get your managers license, to be her dependable day shift manager. You were elated to have something else to focus on, and the pay rise wasn't bad either. Working the days also meant you weren't there in case your old roommate's called in for a drink on their way home from work.

But you knew your luck was going to run out some day soon.

It was on a quintessential late summer evening—the kind where the sun was low enough to shine through the tree canopy, casting the ground in a scene of dancing light and shadows. Gravel crunched beneath your shoes as you ambled through Prospect Park, listening to the harmony of kids laughter, dogs barking, and a busker playing guitar. Walking through the park lengthened your journey home by twenty minutes, but on a day like this it was hard to resist.

You heard him before you saw him, too lost in appreciating the world around you to notice him strolling towards you on his trek home. He called out your name softly, hesitantly. And you would recognise that husky baritone even if you were locked in a soundproof pool drowning underwater.

Your gaze ripped away from watching a pair of swans glide along the shimmering lake, your heart jumping into your throat as you saw Bucky a few metres in front of you. He was wearing his gym clothes, the black compression top clinging to his chest with light patches of sweat. His hair was tied back in a small bun, a few strands stuck to his dewy forehead and your fingers twitched to brush them back. Soft sapphire eyes roamed the valleys of your face, his shoulders dropping with an almost relieved sigh.

You hated how your body heated under his watchful gaze in an instant—hated that he still had control over you and he didn't even know it.

"Hey," he said quietly, a small smile tugging his lips. He hesitated for a moment, doubt flickering across his face before he shook his head and stepped closer, lifting an arm and placing his hand between your shoulder blades to pull you into his embrace.

A startled gasp escaped you at the contact, blood pulsing in your ears as his warmth enveloped you. His other arm wrapped around your waist, his hand resting on the small of your back to pull you in closer. Your traitorous body relaxed in his hold, the heady scent of sandalwood, spice, and his sweat clouding your mind.

Fuck him for always smelling so irresistible.

"Hi." You murmured, muffled by his shirt. You kept your arms at your sides, knowing that if you felt his body beneath your hands you would backtrack all the progress you had made over the past month. You could already feel yourself slipping—comparing being in his arms again to lying in front of the fireplace while rain pelted the windows and thunder clapped outside. The feeling of being warm and safe despite a raging storm.

He rested his chin on your head, his chest expanding underneath your cheek as he inhaled deeply. The hand between your shoulders flexed, pushing you further into him. His chest rumbled below you and you felt his words more than heard them. "Missed you."

You stepped back quickly, stumbling out of his embrace. His brows pinched together and his lips turned down with a frown. He took a small step back and cleared his throat, a muscle flexing in his jaw as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"I—uh—how, how have you been?"

You folded your arms across you chest, focusing on the light freckle on his neck. "I've been okay."

"That's good, great. I—we've missed you." His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard and his voice dropped lower, softer . "Place isn't the same without you."

You had to leave before you did something foolish—before you dropped to your knees and pleaded for an ounce of his affection.

You cleared your throat, trying to rid the sudden emotion clogging it. "How have you been? How's the new roommate?"

Bucky's eyes flicked away from you, a hand leaving his pocket to rub the back of his neck. "Fine—they're fine." Splotches of red coloured his cheeks. "They don't compare to you, though."

What the fuck did that mean?

"Um—okay, well, that's good? I should—"

"Listen," Bucky interrupted you before you could flee from the increasingly awkward encounter. He stepped closer, his eyes locked on the gravel lining the earth. "I—I want to apologise for my behaviour, when you told us you were leaving." He looked up at you, remorse and distress bleeding from him so viscerally you could almost grab it. "I was in shock, I think—it doesn't really matter, I'm not trying to excuse it. I just wanted you to know that I really am sorry and you didn't deserve that." He closed the distance between you more, hands raising towards you before they dropped to his sides. "I—um, I would hate for that to be the reason you haven't come 'round—if you felt uncomfortable because of me."

It was resting on the tip of your tongue, the truth. It was begging to spill out, to tell Bucky that you were uncomfortable because of him but not for the reason he believed. You could handle a little attitude—what you couldn't handle was hearing the guy you're in love with treat another woman the way you had fantasised about since the day you met him.

Grateful for the fact you had been getting enough sleep to keep a grasp on your filter, you accepted his olive branch instead of starting a confessional. "Thank you, Bucky." You looked into his eyes, trying to express your sincereness. "I appreciate it, really."

Hope flared bright across his face. "So, wanna join us next Thursday? Your pick—I'll tell Sam to keep his comments to himself."

Guilt curdled your gut. "Thank you for the offer, but I can't make it, sorry. I already have plans."

If sitting in front of the TV watching New Girl and doomscrolling on your phone constituted as plans.

And just like that, the flame was extinguished. "Oh."

You interrupted before he could say more. "It was good seeing you, Bucky, but I have to get going." You stepped around him to continue home, giving him a small wave goodbye before focusing forward—walking brisker than the tranquil evening called for, your shoulders too tense for the serene landscape.

"Bye," he murmured, the sound drifting towards you with the light breeze.

You kept your head straight forward the rest of the walk home.

You expected the text from Nat the next day, knowing that Bucky would've told your former roommates that he ran into you. She demanded you meet for brunch at your earliest convenience, and given that it was Saturday and you had no plans you couldn't deny her any longer.

You were sitting on the couch putting on your shoes when Allie burst through the front door, her hands full of bags from the morning market and mouth stuffed with cake from the pâtisserie around the corner.

"Oh my god," you heard her mumble around frosting and sponge. "Guess what I just found out."

"Apparently not what decent manners are. Swallow before you talk."

A mop of floppy blonde hair appeared in your doorway. "That's what he said."

You rolled your eyes as Dean sauntered in with a wolfish grin, closing the door behind him. "What the hell are you doing here?" You shot wide eyes at Allie, wordlessly demanding an explanation.

She took your advice and swallowed before speaking again. "I ran into him at the market—he has an update on James B!"

A mix of anticipation and dread made your morning coffee stir. "I thought he stopped leaving reviews?"

Dean collapsed next to you, eyeing the dress you were wearing with approval. "You dress up for me, angel?"

You shoved his shoulder. "Not in a million years. What's the update, dumbass?"

He pulled his phone out with a sigh. "He left a review last night—don't look at me like that, I set up notifications for this very reason." He tapped on his phone before handing it to you, the screen displaying the latest review.

James B.

★★★★★ 13 hours ago

Quiz night isn't the same without her. Nothing is.

Your heart rate picked up, sweat gathering at the back of your knees.

What the fuck?

"But last night wasn't quiz night?" Was the only thing your dumbfounded mind could vocalise.

"I mean, yeah, but you're missing the point!" Allie interjected, standing behind the couch and leaning her head down to read the review. "Now we know he's a quiz night regular! That narrows the search pool down so much."

"Ooo, what if it's one of the old dockmen?" Dean giddily queried.

"They do normally sit in your section—or, well, what used to be your section." Allie supplied, wandering back to your kitchen to put away whatever trendy new chutney she bought from the market.

Your eyes followed her, catching sight of the clock hanging on the wall. "Shit—I'm going to be late." You jumped off the couch, frantically grabbing your phone and shoulder bag. "We can theorise more later, Nat is going to murder me for being late."

"Bye, honey!" Dean yelled as you ran out the door—stopping for a second to throw him the middle finger.

Nat was sitting at a table towards the back of the cafe, her crimson hair a stark contrast to the soft pastel interior. The atmosphere was buzzing and lively—every table occupied, with laughter and heavenly aromas wafting out the open door. It was the go to brunch spot for Brooklyn natives, it's covered outdoor courtyard an enticing location on a warm summer's morning—you were surprised Nat even managed to score a table.

Her face lit up once she saw you, standing to welcome you with a hug. "One more minute and I would've thought you were ghosting me."

You hugged her just as tight, the smell of her perfume relaxing your shoulders and making your heart clench—you shouldn't have gone this long without seeing her. "God, I know, I'm sorry. Allie came home with gossip before I could make my escape."

You both pulled away and sat down, reading the menu like you hadn't looked at it online on your walk over.

"Gossip? Anything interesting?" Nat asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

You let out a deep sigh. "It's a long story. One that's better told over a bottle of wine."

"Okay, now I am beyond intrigued—you better not leave me hanging for another month." She shot you a small glare, the smile on her face lessening it's sharpness.

The waitress came over and took your orders before the two of you fell into easy conversation. She updated you on what trouble the boys—Sam—had gotten into, and you told her about the time you and Allie were locked out in your pyjamas and tried to scale the fire escape. Neither of you broached the subject of why you moved out, but it was lingering in the air—in the soft way Nat said Bucky's name. Throughout the hour you spent chatting you noticed she didn't mention their new roommate once, and the curiosity was making you restless.

"So, how's the new roommate, really? Bucky didn't say much about them."

An out of place nervous hesitation tightened Nat's face, her eyes darting between yours as she bit her lip. After a tense few seconds her shoulders dropped with a sigh.

"Honey, there is no new roommate."

You reared back, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "What? But Bucky said yesterday—he said they were fine."

"Of course he did," she muttered under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked at you with a huff. "The room is empty. Bucky…he's been paying for it."

"What?" You nearly exclaimed, your body temperature rising.

"Look, I don't know why he didn't tell you the truth—I honestly don't know what goes on in his mind, he has made some terrible choices the last few months." She placed a gentle hand on top of yours, her tone softening. "Choices that had you leaving us."

"I don't understand." You muttered quietly.

"I probably shouldn't be the one to tell you this, but—Steve and him were drinking after work last week and he admitted he's paying for the room—saving it in case you want to come back."

Shock rendered you speechless—frustration climbing up from your gut, opening the partially healed scars seared into your heart. Confusion, irritation, and heartache swirled together until they formed one emotion—anger.

Your hands balled into fists, your clenched teeth making your jaw ache. "I'm sorry, what?" You bit out.

You barely noticed the smirk twitching her lips, red starting to blur your vision. "Sam and Steve are out fishing today—he's home alone if you want to go bite his head off."

You didn't need to be told twice, the red-hot fury bringing you to your feet quickly. You grabbed your stuff with urgency, your hands already starting to shake.

"Brunch is my shout—go knock some sense into him."

It took you less than ten minutes to reach the brownstone, outrage powering your legs with a speed you didn't know you were capable of. The fresh air did nothing to calm you down—you were too consumed by the memories from the past year, the heartache you endured, your utter confusion at Nat's revelation.

Your fist pounded on the wooden door, not stopping until it swung open to reveal a puzzled Bucky.

His eyes widened at the sight of you, pink lips stretching into a knee trembling smile. Your dress caught his attention, his smile freezing as blue eyes trailed down and back up your body.

He cleared his throat before speaking. "What are you doin' here, doll?"

"Don't fucking call me that," you seethed, pushing him out of your way to storm inside. You barged down the familiar path to your old room, ignoring Bucky as he called out your name behind you.

You opened the door to find the room exactly how you left it—empty. You whipped around to see Bucky standing a few feet behind you, looking down at the ground with a hand rubbing his neck and a fire overtaking his cheeks.

"Why the fuck are you paying for an empty room? No, better yet, why did you lie to me about it?" You loudly demanded, just shy of shouting.

He stumbled over his words, looking up to see you with your eyebrows raised, arms folded across your chest, hip jutted out—the perfect picture of barely contained rage.

"Well, I—you see, it's—" he dragged a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. "It's complicated?"

"Yeah, no shit. You were so pissy about me moving—it makes no sense! Just tell me the truth for once, Bucky!" Your voice raised higher, your hands flying around as the confusion and aggravation took hold of you.

Bucky's own frustration started to seep through, the volume of his voice a notch below yours. "I was upset because you were leaving—and you didn't seem to care about us, just running straight to Dean for help!"

He was upset? He had no fucking right to be upset.

Hot, frustrated tears flooded your eyes without your permission. "I left because of you, Bucky! No one else, just you." You stepped toward him, pushing a finger into his ridiculously sturdy chest. "And I didn't run to Dean! He offered to help after he watched me have a fucking breakdown over you."

His glistening eyes stared into yours, his eyebrows drawn upwards in distress. "…What?"

A crack had fractured the dam keeping you contained, your pent up thoughts and feelings crashing through and destroying the concrete barrier.

"Every fucking day I came home feeling like my world—my heart—was being torn apart—" your voice cracked and you turned around, starting to pace the length of your old room. "And I know, I fucking know, it's not your fault—that my delusional mind and hopeless romantic heart are to blame for reading into things that weren't there, for creating a fantasy of you—of us."

You wiped away your flowing tears, sniffling as you tried to catch your breath. "But now, you expect me to, what—feel bad for leaving? I was barely human." You let out a wet, humourless laugh.

"What are you talking about?!" He demanded desperately, his face shining with frustration and something akin to hope.

"I'm talking about the goddamn walls, Bucky! I don't know if you know but they're pretty fucking thin! And every Wednesday and Saturday night I heard you and her—I heard the guy I was obsessed with fucking somebody else and it killed me."

"I only started seeing her to get you out of my head!" Both his hands found their way to his hair, tugging the dark strands in frustration. "And maybe I wanted to make you jealous—which I know is a terrible—"

You closed the distance between you in two quick strides, reaching out to shove his chest. "Jealous? You wanted to make me jealous?!" You seethed out, your fists hitting his chest as your vision blurred. "Are you blind?! Everyone could see how infatuated I was with you." Your hits lost their strength, your cheeks growing even more wet.

"Hey," Bucky whispered softly, his hands gently encircling your wrists and his thumbs rubbing tender patterns on your radial pulse. "Breathe for me."

"No," you stubbornly whispered back, despite your panting breaths slowing to match his. You drew in staggering breaths, finally noticing how hard your heart was beating—your body shaking with every thump. Your fists unfurled, your palms resting flat on his broad chest—the fast pounding of his heart a near match to yours.

He let go of your wrists, his hands cupping your face delicately. He wiped your tears away with such care it made your heart ache. Your vision cleared enough to focus on his face, seeing his eyes shining with their own tears.

"I think we're both a bit blind, sweetheart. Everyone can see how smitten I am with you." He rested his forehead against yours, the space around you two growing charged in the aftermath of your anger. "Sam gives me shit about it every day." His breathy laugh ghosted your lips, leaving tingles in it's wake. His voice dropped low, "I'm so fucking in love with you I was leaving reviews about you like some—like a hopeless sap, hoping you would realise it was me."

His confession of love flew over your head, incredulity controlling your mind. "That was you?!" You gasped, pushing his chest lightly. "I thought I had a stalker, you idiot."

The memory of the night you and Allie read all the reviews ran through your head, remembering the disturbingly romantic details written; remembering the reviews you secretly reread like a guilty pleasure, going to sleep with a giddy smile and fluttering butterflies because someone was noticing you.

"That's all you took from that?" He shook his head minutely, one of his hands brushing down your back to cradle your waist. "I'm trying to tell you I'm in love with you here."

You stepped out of his embrace, your mind still picking through all the small details. "But—the first review was, like—" you started to pace again, your hands resting atop your head. "It was well over a year ago!" Your voice raised again, recalling how horrible you felt only a month ago—the heartbreak you could've avoided. "Why did you never say anything?!"

"Because I was scared!" His voice raised to meet yours. "I didn't want to ruin things and lose you forever!"

"Yeah, well look at how that turned out!" You gestured wildly to the empty room.

"Why are we shouting again?" Bucky walked towards you, reaching for your hands. You were both breathing heavily, the sound of your pants echoing in the emptiness as your chests heaved up and down.

"Because I'm mad at you." You finally met his eyes, the blue bleeding with regret and sorrow. Your voice dropped lower, timidness starting to creep in. "You…you broke my heart, Buck."

He gripped your hands tighter, raising one to rest on his chest—right above his heart. "I am going to spend every day until I die trying to make it up to you." His remorse polluted the air around you, tears welling in your eyes once again—this time from the pain clouding his. "If you'll let me."

"That's a bit dramatic," you mumbled, sniffling lightly. "Until you're fifty is fine."

He laughed, wet and husky. He let go of your hands to cup your face again, smoothing his thumbs along your cheekbones. Your breath hitched at the touch, the pain in your system being diluted by the drug that is Bucky.

He leaned in closer, his eyes darting between yours and your lips. "I'm gonna kiss you now, okay?"

You managed a small nod before his lips were on yours—desperate and aching, stealing the breath from your lungs. One of his hands shifted to the back of your neck, tilting your head to kiss you deeper. Your hands found his chest again, fisting his shirt and causing a groan to sound in the back of his throat. He took control of the kiss with no complaint from you—happily letting him suck your bottom lip before nipping it, opening for him when his tongue grazed your lips.

The first touch of his tongue against yours had fire scorching down your body, the intensity of his kisses settling in your gut and awakening the need you've had for him for over a year.

The annoying human need for air had you pulling away from his lips, gasping as you tried to catch your breath. His stubble scratched your skin as he trailed kisses along your jaw, tilting your head to reach the sensitive spot below your ear. He gave it a soft experimental kiss, his tongue darting out and drawing a small whine from you.

His chest rumbled beneath your hands. "You talk about the walls being thin—trust me, I know." He stepped forward, his fingers dancing down your sides to grasp your hips, backing you into the wall. "I know you like to beg, what pretty sounds you make when you're about to come." He trailed his nose back along your jaw and down the other side of your neck, nestling into the crook and sniffing deeply with a small moan.

"Wh-what? I haven't—I never brought anyone home." You stuttered out, head starting to feel heavy from the lust fogging it.

"No, but you still have needs, don't you?" He let out a small chuckle, trailing feather-light kisses along your collarbone. "You thought you were alone, thought it didn't matter how loud you let yourself be." He pulled back, bringing a hand up to brush his fingers along your cheek, making their way down your neck. Onyx eyes met yours—a shiver racing down your spine at the barely contained hunger in them. "I came home with a migraine and you were so wrapped up in pleasure you didn't even hear me—but I heard you. And shit, doll, the noises you made cured my migraine faster than any pain meds ever have." He dropped his forehead to yours, his breath fanning your lips. "I had to fuck my fist three times that night. I replayed every little whimper, moan, every gasp of please until it drove me insane."

A gasp escaped you at his admission, heat rolling through your body—a mix of embarrassment and hunger swirling in your core.

"And then, like it was the universe's sole purpose to bring me to my knees, you walked in the next day wearing this dress." His fingers drifted to the neckline of your dress, toying with it as your breasts moved rapidly beneath. "Looking like a fucking angel sent here to torture me. Like sin wrapped in white lace. I had to leave before I dropped to my knees and begged for a taste—to let me worship you."

Your heart was trying to beat out of your chest, the throbbing in your core escalating with every word he murmured into your lips.

"You kept on wearing it, and I had to pretend like I wasn't replaying those sounds every time I saw you—like my dick wasn't rock hard at just a glimpse of this fucking dress." The hand on your neckline travelled down to the line of lace below your breasts—his thumb stroking along it making your breath stutter and nipples harden. "I had to do something, I felt like I was going insane. I started seeing her to get you out of my head—didn't fucking work now, did it?"

The mention of her cut through the Bucky induced haze, and you hesitated—needing clarification before you could let him consume you.

"Are you still seeing her?" You whispered.

"Fuck no, we were strictly casual. I broke it off the day you left."

Your head reared back an inch, hitting the wall lightly. "You know that doesn't make me feel better, right? That you only wanted to sleep with her because I was in the next room."

Both his hands gripped your waist, squeezing gently. "Okay, that—that wasn't what I was trying to get at." He lifted his head to stare into your eyes. "What I meant was that you leaving really showed how much of an idiot I'd been, wasting my time with her when you were right next door."

"Why didn't you reach out, then?"

He shrugged, his eyes darting away nervously. "I didn't think I had a right to. I wasn't exactly proud of how I acted the last time we spoke."

You saw Bucky almost every day for over a year—you knew he didn't get outwardly nervous often, and you knew when he was being vulnerable and honest. The Bucky in front of you wasn't lying—you could tell he was genuinely worried he'd messed everything up.

You relented with a sigh, lacing your hands around his neck. "I think it's time you start making it up to me."

"Gladly," he said before pulling you into him and kissing you deeply. He pressed his hips against yours, pushing you harder into the wall. You gasped at the feeling of his bulge against your stomach, your core trembling and aching in anticipation.

The pace of the kiss picked up, Bucky's tongue licking into your mouth with a deep moan. His grip on your hips tightened and he spun you around, walking you backwards towards his room without removing his mouth from yours.

He kicked the door shut behind him, leading you towards his bed with his hands drifting down to squeeze your ass. You broke away with a moan, your lips swollen and chin tender from his stubble.

"Sit down for me, sweetheart." Bucky rasped out. You quickly obliged—your need for him making you ready to do anything he said.

He kneeled on the floor in front of you, slowly taking your shoes off. His hands trailed up your bare legs, stopping when they reached the hem of your dress.

He pressed a soft kiss to your knee. "You gonna let me make you feel good?" He mumbled into your skin.

You nodded rapidly, your hands clenching his sheets in desperation.

He clicked his tongue. "I need words, angel."

"Yes, Bucky—please. Please touch me," you gasped out, the sight of him on his knees robbing your intelligence.

His mouth tilted into a smirk, his eyes gleaming. "There you go with that begging again."

He clasped your knees, spreading your legs open. His breath tickled the sensitive skin on your inner thighs, goosebumps erupting and surging up to your core. He pressed light kisses along one thigh, stopping when he got to your dress and switching to the other.

You could feel slick leaking out of your cunt, your clit pulsing from the lack of attention.

"Buck, stop teasing, please." You whined softly, lifting a hand to push the hair away from his eyes. He nuzzled into your hand, turning to press a kiss into your palm. Your hand vibrated as he hummed low.

He grasped the hem of your dress, lifting it slowly up to your hips. "Lean back f'me."

You leaned back on your elbows, your body trembling with need as his hands scorched paths up your thighs.

He let out a low groan once your dress was up past your hips—revealing your soaked panties to him. His eyes locked onto them, his pupils dilating until only a sliver of blue remained.

"All this from a little kissing?" He brushed a thumb along the wet patch, grazing your clit. Your head fell back with a loud gasp, your hips twitching towards his touch.

"Sensitive," he mumbled. His hand moved, tracing the edge of your panties—you were sure he could feel the heartbeat pulsing in your core. "How long has it been?"

You lifted your head up, looking into his dark eyes—the desire in them reflecting your own. "Since before I—"

You cut yourself off with a soft moan, your body jerking as Bucky pressed his thumb to your clit through your underwear—circling it with a steady pressure.

"What was that?" He asked smugly.

Your chest heaved as you tried to wade through the sensations buzzing through you. "Since before I moved in," you rushed out quickly, another moan escaping you at the feeling of his touch directly on your pussy—his hand slipping underneath the wet fabric.

"Fuck," he breathed out through clenched teeth. He grabbed the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs quickly. He groaned out looking at your exposed cunt, and you tried to close your legs on instinct.

He gripped your thighs to stop them from closing. "None of that," he growled out lowly. "Let me look at her."

His hands trailed up your thighs until they reached your bare hips, yanking you closer to the edge of the bed. You fell onto your back softly, your breath shaking from the impact.

He pulled your lips apart and moaned loudly. "She's fucking dripping, sweetheart."

You clenched at his words, his teasing leaving you aching and squirming. He chuckled and pressed a soft kiss millimetres away from where you needed him most. He breathed you in deeply making your hips buck up with a needy whine.

"Bucky, please."

He dragged a single finger from entrance to clit, pulling it back with a string of your arousal connecting the two of you. You sighed at the small touch, opening your eyes to see Bucky suck the tip of his finger.

He groaned at your taste, hands grabbing the back of your thighs to push your legs back and spread you wider.

"Gonna make her feel so good, pretty girl." He slurred out, his lips trailing a path of fire up to your core. "Be a good girl and make those noises for me again."

He dove in, licking the same path as his finger. His groan vibrated through you and your hands flew to his hair, gripping the strands as you gasped.

"Taste so fucking good," he mumbled before latching onto your clit. He sucked gently, circling the nub with his tongue. You rewarded him with a tug to his hair and a shaky moan.

He picked up the pace, moaning as he went from tasting you to devouring. He thrusted his tongue into you, lapping up everything he could. The room filled with the lewd sounds of your slick and his saliva coating your pussy—with your unabashed moans and gasps bouncing off the walls.

He pulled away from you, his chin and beard glistening. "That's it, pretty. Being such a good girl." You whined at the praise, using your hold on his hair to push his face back into you.

Your hips rocked against his face, the flame in your core growing fast. He moved an arm to your hips, holding them down to keep you still. He sucked your clit harshly, your back arching at the pleasure he was unleashing on you. You gasped out his name as your orgasm built rapidly.

"Fuck, Bucky—right there! Please, I'm gonna—" you cut off with a loud moan, your body jolting from him lightly biting your clit. Stars started to dot your vision as he continued to feast on you like a starved man—like you were his first sip of water after wandering the desert.

The knot in your core clenched tight before it unravelled, Bucky's groans vibrating through you pushing you over the edge. You came with a cry, your hands yanking his hair hard. A blissful fire spread throughout you, making your toes curl and head float.

Bucky drank up your release, prolonging your high until you were shaking and trying to push his head away. He relented, moving back to kiss and nip your inner thighs. Your heavy panting filled the room, your pussy twitching as you came down.

You propped yourself up on weak elbows, your droopy eyes meeting his glazed, pussy drunk ones.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered reverently. He moved back in closer, his breath fanning your cunt making you clench around nothing. "Another one."

He slowly licked at your hole, leaving your overstimulated clit throbbing painfully. Your arms gave out, a whimper crawling up your throat. You brought a hand up to your chest, squeezing a breast over your dress—trying to relieve the ache in them.

"Fuck, look at you," Bucky cooed, pulling away from you to stand up. "As much as I love this dress, I think you'll look even more beautiful without it."

You nodded, sitting up slightly so he could pull it over your head. Your eyes were level with his crotch, seeing the large bulge tenting his pants—your mouth salivating already. Once your dress was off you reached a hand out, palming his hard dick over his pants. You gasped at the heavy feel of him, your walls clenching at the thought of him stretching you open.

His head rolled back with a moan, a hand catching your wrist to stop your movements. "Not right now." You let out a displeased whine and his mouth twitched with a smirk. "Later, promise. Lay back down so I can worship you."

He grasped the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head, leaving you to gape at his insane torso. You had seen it before but you always adverted your eyes quickly, scared of getting caught staring. Now, you could stare and touch all you wanted.

You leaned up to run a hand over his bare chest, his body scorching beneath your skin. You trailed a finger down the hard ridges lining his body, a thrill running through you as his muscles rippled and breath stuttered. Your mouth found his pecks, lathering them in wet kisses while your hand teased the waistband of his pants. He grasped your chin, jerking your head up to look at him. His jaw was tense and eyebrows furrowed, a slight darkness shadowing his face.

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. "What did I just say, sweetheart?" He mumbled, his tone laced with warning.

Before you could reply, his hands grasped your waist and pushed you up the bed until your head met his pillow. He crawled on top of you, kissing your neck.

"Thought you were gonna be a good girl." He mumbled, biting the spot below your ear and making you gasp. He pulled on one of your bra straps, letting it snap back onto your skin. You gasped louder at the small stinging sensation, the slight pain dousing your core in gasoline.

"Please, I am—I will be. M'sorry." You whimpered out, tilting your head back as he continued his assault on your neck.

He hummed in response, sucking on your pulse point before trailing lower—his stubble scraping the top of your breasts. He reached a hand behind your back, unclasping your bra with ease before pulling the straps down your arms slowly.

Your nipples hardened more once exposed to the cool air, begging for Bucky's attention. He lavished your breasts in kisses, covering every inch of skin with his spit. One of your hands clutched onto his bicep while the other wound into his hair again. He continued to avoid your nipples and you squirmed underneath him, trying to move his head to where you wanted him.

He relented, licking a nipple before sucking it into his mouth. You moaned from the relief and the zaps of pleasure racing down your torso. He pinched your abandoned nipple, rolling it between his thumb and finger as he bit down on the other one. You arched off the bed with a loud whine, the pain and pleasure morphing into one. He switched nipples, dolling out the same sweet torture with moans lodged in his throat.

Once both your nipples were raw and aching he kissed down your abdomen, hands clutching your hips as his mouth worshipped your stomach. You giggled at his beard tickling your sensitive skin and he lifted his head, his blown out eyes meeting yours with a soft—almost unbelieving—smile.

"You're breathtaking," he whispered. "And you're all mine, yeah?"

"Yes, Buck. Only yours."

He hummed in approval, pressing a light kiss to your hip. "Good. 'Cause I'm yours, angel. I'm sorry it took so long for me to say."

He moved back down to where you were dripping onto his sheets, your body wound tight from your first orgasm and his teasing. He licked into you without hesitation, drawing out loud noises from you as he sucked your sensitive clit.

"You're so wet—wanna live between these thighs, doll."

A hand left your hip to poke at your entrance, one finger sliding in easily before your walls squeezed at the intrusion. He pumped it in and out slowly until you were begging for more. A second slipped in, both of them curling upwards and grazing the spot that had you arching off the bed with a sound you'd never made before.

He lifted his head up, praising you for how good you were being—telling you how pretty you sounded. His mouth descended on your clit again and his fingers picked up their pace.

Your head rolled around on his pillow, the dual stimulation to your pussy making a heat rush through you like you'd never experienced with anyone else. You could feel how he was paying attention to you, altering his movements to gauge what sounds he could pull out of you—getting to know what you liked.

The ball tightened faster than the first time, your body edging on being overstimulated. Both your hands were fisting the sheets, your hips grinding against Bucky's face and fucking his fingers—the obscene squelch of your pussy soaking his hand mixing with your moans and gasps.

"Let me come—please. Been s'good for you, Buck—"

You know you didn't need his permission to come, but begging and submitting to him felt so good. Your own words pulled the coil in your core tighter—his resounding moan shaking through you telling you how much they affected him too.

A third finger joined in and you clenched down hard, the stretch almost throwing you off the cliff. They curled into your spot over and over, his other hand moving to push down on your lower stomach—causing something between a moan and squeal to leave you.

"Course you can come for me, sweetheart. I want nothing more than this sweet pussy drenching me."

With one last curl of his fingers and suck to your clit, your body started to shake, the ball bursting and sending waves crashing through you. Your eyes rolled back and your ears started ringing, deaf to the borderline animalistic noises you were letting out. You clamped down on his fingers hard, your juices gushing out and coating his hand—dripping and staining his sheets.

Your head was up in the clouds, cotton filling the space your brain used to be. You briefly registered his mouth leaving your overstimulated and raw nub, his fingers still moving slowly as you floated through your high. Small, gentle kisses across your cheeks, nose, and eyelids had you giggling breathlessly. Your body felt heavy, your eyelids struggling to open.

"You doin' okay?" Bucky whispered into your temple, peppering more light kisses to your forehead. You hummed softly.

"Need'a minute," you slurred out.

His fingers slowed and then left you, a whine slipping past your lips at the emptiness. You felt a hand rubbing soothing circles onto your scalp, your body turning towards his warmth. You slowly opened your eyes to find him staring at you, electric blue lazily roaming around your face.

"Hi," you whispered, lifting a heavy hand to push hair behind his ear. He grabbed your hand and covered it in soft kisses, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Hi. How you feeling?"

You leaned in, nuzzling your nose against his. "Good—really good," you muttered before kissing him softly. Your hand weaved into his hair, pulling him in as your kiss grew more passionate.

One of his hands cradled your jaw and the other spanned the small of your back, pushing you into his bulge. You bit his lip teasingly, revelling in his body shuddering and drinking down the moan he let free.

You grinded your hips against his—gasping and whimpering at the rough fabric of his pants dragging against your oversensitive pussy. He responded in kind, rutting his bulge into you with a groan.

"Want you inside of me," you mumbled into his lips, throwing a leg over his to roll your hips harder.

"Fuck—okay," he breathed out. He pulled away to reach for his bedside drawer but your hand on his chest stopped him.

"Are you clean?"

His eyes widened and he nodded dumbly. "I got tested the other week—wait, I'll show you." He reached for his phone but you stopped him with a giggle.

"I believe you. I'm clean—obviously. And on birth control."

His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets, pupils dilating until they physically couldn't anymore.

"Are you sure?" He gripped your face in his hands, eyes darting between yours. "I only used condoms with her so I understand—"

That fact pleased you absurdly, your hand trailing down his chest to his groin—squeezing his heavy bulge. "I'm sure. Wanna feel you, all of you."

He pulled you into a searing kiss, rolling you onto your back and hovering over you. Your mouth moved against his eagerly, both your hands on his waistband to unbotton and unzip his pants. You reached a hand into his boxers, a gasp leaping out as you wrapped your hand around him—his cock throbbing and big. You briefly worried about the limp you'll have later.

He panted above you, his eyes closing as you stroked him slowly. You could feel his boxers damp with pre-cum, beads of it dripping from his tip. You brushed your thumb over it and he moaned gutturally, eyes opening as you pulled your hand out. You kept eye contact with him as you brought your thumb up to your lips, licking his pre-cum before sucking it into your mouth with a satisfied moan.

He pulled your thumb out, tracing his own along your lip before you sucked on it—twirling your tongue around it.

"You're gonna be the fucking death of me, angel." He groaned out.

He pushed away to pull his pants and boxers off, throwing them behind him carelessly. Your eyes zeroed in on his cock standing proud—your mouth somehow simultaneously drying up and drooling at the sight. He was the biggest you'd ever seen—long and thick, the tip flushed red with his need. Your knees fell apart on instinct, the fire building up just looking at him.

"Wanna take a picture?" He teased.

"Another time," you whispered, surging up to grab his shoulders and pull him back on top of you.

He chuckled into your mouth before it dissolved into a moan, your hips bucking up and smearing his cock with your slick.

He grabbed your hips, pulling them up slightly as he settled between your legs. You both broke off from the kiss with matching gasps, the feel of him sliding along your slit making you both dizzy. His tip bumped into your clit with each glide, whimpers echoing from your chest as you twitched from the stimulation.

"You're so fucking pretty," he mumbled, dropping his head to kiss and nip along your neck.

"Please," you whined, your hips rocking without thought.

He pulled back and looked down between you, groaning at his dick already glistening with you. He wrapped a hand around himself, tapping his head against your clit a few times. You squealed, starting to feel dizzy with desire. He shushed you gently, dragging a thumb along your cheekbone before positioning himself at your entrance.

His eyes met yours as he pushed in slowly, the intensity in them making you choke up. It had never felt like this before—never felt so passionate, adoring. It made everything feel elevated—your nerve endings singing with pleasure wherever he touched you.

You clenched down on him instinctively, your walls stretching around just the tip. Your chest heaved as you tried to relax—you weren't in pain, it just felt so fucking good.

"Be a good girl and let me in," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss you.

Your legs opened wider for him, your core relaxing to let him push in further. Moans and gasps filled the air around you as he thrust slowly, sinking until he reached the hilt.

The breath knocked out of you, the feeling of him filling you completely making your head rush. He moved slowly at first, small thrusts to get you accommodated before pulling back until just the tip was inside. He sank home with deep moans, his cock pushing against your spot with every thrust.

You wrapped your legs around his waist making him reach deeper inside you. He picked up his pace, his hips meeting yours with soft slaps.

"You feel so good—oh, fuck!" He exclaimed as you clenched down on him.

"Harder, please." You moaned out, scratching your nails down his chest.

"Yeah? My pretty girl—my little angel—likes it rough?"

You nodded deliriously, the tension in your core sizzling with every thrust.

He sat up, bringing your hips with him. He held them up and delivered harsh thrusts—each one expelling a gasp out of you. Your legs tightened around him, his strength pushing you up the bed.

The headboard knocked against the wall, adding to the symphony of moans, whimpers, skin slapping that was already deafening the room. Each sound had you soaring higher, each thrust kissing your cervix sending a shock through you.

Bucky removed your legs from his waist, clutching your thighs to push them towards your chest. Your wide eyes met his with a gasp, the change in position igniting a roaring fire everywhere. He dropped forward slowly, pushing into you so far you swear you could feel him in your throat.

He groaned into your ear. "This is—god, you're made for me."

His thrusts resumed their previous pace, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. Sweat beaded along his hairline from the exertion, his hair sticking to his temples—and he looked so beautiful, your eyes started to well with tears.

Everything rushed through you in an overwhelming burst—the heartache you suffered, the months of yearning and uncertainty, how much you loved him. How much he loved you.

Tears fell from your eyes as the sensations built higher and you grasped his face, pulling his forehead to yours. Your gentle kiss to his lips was a stark contrast to his cock drilling into you.

"I love you," you whispered, your words breaking on a sob of pleasure.

His hips stuttered, his eyes squeezing tightly. "You can't say that again or I'll blow my load." You laughed at his clear struggle to hold back, making him groan as you squeezed him tighter.

He continued his thrusts, wiping a thumb under your eye to catch your tears. "This is the only time I'm gonna make you cry from now on, yeah? Only gonna make you sob cause I'm fucking you so good."

You nodded, letting out little "uh-huh"'s as you climbed higher and higher.

"Play with your clit, sweetheart." Bucky rasped out.

Your hand snuck between your bodies to press circles around your clit—your back arching with a whine. Tears continued to track down your temples, wetting the pillow below you.

"Fill me up, please," you managed to get out between whimpers and sobs. Bucky's grip on your thighs tightened, surely leaving marks for you to admire over the next few days.

"Come with me," Bucky moaned, pressing a scorching kiss to your lips as his thrusts grew sloppy. You tensed below him, your body locking up before pure ecstasy barrelled through you. You came with a scream of his name, clenching down on his cock to keep him trapped. Your vision faded to white, your body trembling and pulsing.

Bucky groaned out your name as his orgasm rushed through him, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside you as he filled you completely with cum.

He collapsed on top of you, his sweaty chest heaving against yours. He slowly lowered your legs then wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling into your neck.

You laid there for a few minutes, the both of you gradually coming back down to earth. He pulled out of you slowly, the both of you groaning at the feeling. A mix of your releases dripped out of you, coating your ass and staining the sheets.

"Stay right here," Bucky said before giving you a chaste kiss, pulling his boxers on to run to the bathroom. He came back with a wet towel, sitting on the bed next to you to clean you up with gentle, reverent touches.

He climbed behind you, pulling you into his strong chest—a satisfied rumble vibrating your back. He kissed the back of your head, trailing towards your ear and giving your lobe a gentle bite.

"I love you too."

"When can we move your stuff back in?"

Bucky and you were still lying on his bed, basking in the warmth of each other as the afternoon sun trickled through his half closed curtains.

You turned in his arms, slinging a leg over his and booping his nose. "I think we should go on a couple dates before I move in with you."

His nose and eyes scrunched with that laugh you first fell in love with. "Oh, is that right?"

"Living together before you've even bought me flowers? Sounds a bit rash to me."

"I'll buy you a whole flower shop," he mumbled, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare hip. "Well, maybe not right away—I am paying for two rooms, y'know. Would be nice to be able to buy groceries next month."

You laughed softly, poking his bare chest. "Yeah, and whose fault is that again?"

He grumbled something unintelligible, hiding his face in your neck to lavish you in more kisses.

Wars were started over smiles less beautiful than hers.

The reminder of his reviews about you flourished in your mind, prompting you to pull his head away from your neck.

"So, you're James B? This whole time?"

His face bloomed red, a huff leaving him before he nervously licked his lips. "Yeah…"

"Why? Why start leaving them in the first place, why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged slightly, lifting a hand to trace the lines of your face. "We were at the bar drinking, and some guy nearby pointed to you and said ratings must be higher with you working there. And—I don't know, I guess I was drunk enough to agree and then…it just happened?"

You furrowed your brows at him. "Why not just write in a journal?"

"Trust me, I was already doing that." He laughed softly, his eyes glowing. "I guess, in a weird way, I was telling you how I felt without actually telling you. Stupid, I know."

Warmth started to spread from your chest. "It took us ages to even notice the reviews—we only realised they were there because Dean assumed one was about him."

Bucky tensed under your hands. "Fucking Dean," he muttered.

"…Are you jealous?"

The blush on his cheeks grew, his eyes avoiding yours. "He was always staring at you, and you laughed with him like—like you did with me. I thought there was something goin' on."

Is it bad that him being jealous is turning you on?

"You have nothing to worry about, Dean is a gross womaniser who I only see as an annoying brother." You pushed at Bucky's chest, making him lie on his back as you straddled his hips. You pressed kisses along his chest, your hips slowly rocking against his. "He did tell me he wanted to sleep with me, though."

Bucky's hands grasped your hips harder, his face turning stormy. "I don't wanna hear you talkin' about another guy when you're on top of me, doll." He muttered low.

You leaned in to kiss him, your hips moving faster and drawing gasps out of the both of you—his dick already half hard under you. "You're so hot when you're jealous."

The sound of the front door opening had you both freezing—your former roommate's laughter drifting down the hall.

"Get dressed, lovebirds!" Sam's voice rang out. "We've got fish to fry!"

a/n: thank you to this pic on pinterest that inspired half the plot (i couldn't get the ho to fit into a moodboard 😔)

[babblesofbun]

Twist of fate

Yandere Geto and Gojo x loser girl chubby reader

Synopsis⤷ Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto are the top at everything at Jujutsu University. Top grades,top in their respective sports, and top at the food chain of all the students. When you’re that set in life things begin to seem… boring. All that changes when they’ve made a bet to see how desperate you are…its a win-win situation, they get to spice up their lives and you get your first boyfriend(s), what could go wrong?

Warnings ⤷ manipulative behaviors, abuse of power, stalking mentioned, sabotage, they’re lowkey so snaky in the beginning, p in v sex, they eat it at the same time, face humping, lots of spit, throat training, Noaya(I’m sorry), yandere behaviors, possessiveness, lots of buildup, face fucking, they’re just so conniving,mentions of depression, multiple sexual scenes, fingering, face sitting.MDNI!!

WC⤷31k(I’m so sorry)

also art by mongsanghwa(pls correct me if wrong I got it from Pinterest)

NOT PROOFREAD YET! SO PLS BE AWARE!!

“What makes you say that?” Gojo implores. Noaya rolls his eyes,”Look at her, I doubt she has anyone lining up to fuck her.” He puffs his chest out, placing his lither fingers on his pectorals,”I don’t even know why she bothered to come, we had plenty of people before this.”

Gojo eyes the awkward woman in the corner, sizing up every aspect he could perceive. He notes your out of place attire—who wears a matching sweat suit set to a party? You appear to be fresh out of bed, plump face still groggy eyed, a perfect match to your house slippers that are dawned on your fuzzy feet. “ I don’t know Noaya, I think someone would fuck her. “

Geto then walks in the booming living room,lively with music. With a fresh six pack of beer in hand he asks,”Fuck who Satoru?” Noaya sucks his teeth in your direction, “Her, that total loser.” Geto follows the direction of the sound,he hums thoughtfully,”I dunno I think a good chunk of people would get hard one being with her.”

“That’s what I was saying!” Gojo excitedly adds. “Well you both are a bunch of idiots. You’re being too nice to ugly bitches like that. That’s how you get them thinking they have a chance with you.”

Geto scoffs,”Relax, you’re acting like she’ll be desperate enough to fuck you.” Gojo pours salt on the opened wound,”Yeah, Noaya the moment you open ya trap every girl wouldn’t even dream of fucking you.” The multicolored haired man bares his teeth at the pair, sneering in absolute disgust at their words. “I get plenty of pussy. More than you cucks ever could and more than that sloppy bitch over there.”

Geto and Gojo glance at each other, contemplating each other’s reactions before abruptly breaking out into laughter. Gojo places his hand on his stomach, rubbing it to calm the resounding laughter,”You think—oh my God you’re funny—that you,” he points to Noaya,” get more than me andddd Sugu? Oh knock it off Noaya.”

“That girl you say gets none probably sees more than you ever have Noaya.” Geto adds, chuckling in his face. The man’s face grows red with both embarrassment and rage. “Well maybe not m-more than you guys but I know I get way more play than her.” He points with disgust in your path , spitting out angrily,”I bet she wouldn’t even turn down the first chump that’s asking to fuck her. That’s how little action she gets.”

“ ‘s that so?” Gojo asks, now composed. His white brow raised in interest. “Yes! I know the type. Desperate little whores throwing themselves at anything that sticks because nobody else wants their sorry asses.”

Gojo side eyes Geto, telepathically communicating with him in a way they only can with each other. They both pick up on the shared thought, however Geto is the only one to say it aloud. “Wanna bet?” His lips curl handsomely, his mono-lid eyes looking cat like as he does so.

“Bet what?” Gojo places his arm around the shorter man, pulling him real up and close and personal,”Welll, me and Sugu were thinking we could have a fair way to really see if she’s as desperate as you say.” While Gojo doesn’t wholeheartedly believe everything he was saying about you, he could agree that you did seem desperate in a sense. Not to the degree Noaya was going on about, but there was an air about you that screamed “I’ve never had a boyfriend!”

“How would that work?” Geto chimes in,” Me and Gojo would pursue her, laying it on her as thick as we can and seeing if it works or not.” Noaya raises his hands in confusion,” What could I possibly get out of that?”

Gojo pipes out,”If we can’t do it you’ll have bragging rights anddd me and Suguru both owe you a separate favor. Anything you could possibly want.” Just hearing the words bragging rights had Noaya’s massive ego hooked—plus a favor from each of them! That’s all he needed to hear. “If we win you have to do whatever we say for a whole week.”

It was risky with how charming and popular the dynamic duo really are. Geto is praised for his elegant demeanor paired with his tactful mind, funny yet kind personality, and leader qualities that gave him connections with people nobody wanted to get on the bad side of. And Gojo was profoundly rich, having multiple ties with Jujitsu tech University, known for his goofy yet kind personality, and had a hidden strength no one else could ever compare to. Not to mention they both were devastatingly good looking, a fact even a prideful man like Noaya couldn’t ignore.

That’s why it was important to have something over their heads for a change, if things went Noaya’s way he could finally rise above them. “Alright then, it’s a bet but you only have a month to do it.” He sticks both hands out, motioning for them to shake it. They do, smiling with cruelty.

They knew as they sealed the deal it wasn’t a fair bargain. They knew the power they had over others, knew how easily they sway anyone. This wasn’t a bet, it was simply a fortune for what’s to come.

They release their hands from the hold already gazing at you but you’re no longer alone. You’re conversing with Shoko, the interaction is albeit short, it ending with you handing a silver laptop to their friend. And before they could process it you’re gone, lost in the ocean of people. Noaya chuckles,”Oops, look like you both lost her. Good luck with finding her again.”

Geto puts his cockiness back in check,”We could just ask Shoko how she knows her. C’mon Toru ,” he motions for him,”let’s go find out about our mystery girl.” Gojo follows behind but not without him sticking his tongue out at Noaya,”Get ready to loseeee.” He taunts sing song.

Noaya grumbles a whatever that falls on deaf ears.

Geto and Gojo easily meet paths with Shoko, but not without being stopped by people in the crowd, bombarded with hellos or future invitations to upcoming parties. She sighs at just seeing them in her eyesight,”What are you two scheming?” Gojo whines, draping his much bigger body onto Shokos,”Don’t be so mean, can’t friends say hello just cause?”

She gives a pointed look at Geto, knowing he’ll give the real honest answer. “We were wondering who that girl you were talking to was.” She huffs, pushing Gojo off of her. Her clean and polished fingertips grab a stray cigarette from her pocket, leering at Geto expectantly. Wordlessly, he pulls the lighter he purely owns because of Shoko’s habit out from the confines of his baggy pants, extending it and then igniting the smoke for her.

She takes a drag from it before she speaks, “She’s my roommate. What do you two want with her?” She’s holding the cigarette between her pointer and index finger, her tired eyes picking up on the hijinks they’re planning to get up to. That was just perfect. Their target just happens to be rooming with one of their closest companions, what are the odds of that? The chances of Noaya even winning the bet just got even slimmer.

“A little game me and Sugu are playing.” Gojo exclaims excitedly. “Gosh, you both are terrible,” she takes another inhale of the smoke before exhaling,”she’s really nice and she doesn’t get into trouble so why are you dragging her in your bullshit?”

Geto replies matter of factly, like planning to play mind games with a innocent stranger is completely normal behavior. “We’re not going to hurt her or anything, we’re just curious about something.” Shoko perks her eyebrow,”And that is?”

“We’re just wondering how much she’ll like me and Toru.” A half truth. One that doesn’t even go to the extent of what they’re plotting already. “Is this one of your stupid bets again? You two really need to grow up.” Gojo snaps his fingers, his pointers sticking straight at Shoko,”Bingo! But jeezzz Shoko you don’t have to be so mean and put us down like that.”

Shoko gives a pointed look towards the man pointing at her,”Quit that.” Gojo quickly purses out his bottom lip but obeys, slowly lowering down his hands. She then turns her attention back onto his counterpart, peering at him with an unreadable expression.

Sighing, she plucks the cigarette from her mouth,”I’m not going to tell you what to do or anything. Just don’t disrupt my studies, I can’t cheat again or else my ass is in hot water. “ Gojo perks up,”So that means you’ll help us?” She tuts,”As if I’d get wrapped up in your antics.” Her brown eyes give him a shady once over, looking up and down at his lanky demeanor.

“What do ya mean myy antics? Sugurus doing it too!” Gojo protests. Gojo’s no stranger to this happening to him, even with little things they always equally did, he’d always receive the brunt of the blame. It’s like no one else sees Geto is just as equally responsible for the shenanigans they both do. They’re essentially cut from the same cloth, Gojo just happens to be more vocal about it.

Yet again, Shoko ignores his words, choosing instead to speak directly to Geto. “I won’t help but I won’t stop you, no matter what I think. Just…”she pauses, searching for her words gently,”don’t do anything too crazy. Like I said she’s really nice and kind of a shut in even by my standards.”

The raven haired man grins reassuringly,”We won’t do anything we can’t come back from.” It’s a truth. A truth because truly with the way they’re positioned in life there isn’t anything they couldn’t bounce back from.

Shoko hums in response, tucking her retrieved laptop under her arm. “Alright then, I’ll believe you.” She huffs smoke in their faces as she warns the plotting pair,”You better not be a pain in my ass later.” She waves coolly to them, her lips pressed rigidly on the ciggy.

Gojo gingerly mirrors the wave, exclaiming,”We wouldn’t even dream of that.” She scoffs, amused by his words because the duo were always a pain in her ass one way or another. Geto is more calm with his goodbye,”See you later.” She nods in recognition before walking into the crowd of people, a cloud of murky gray surrounding her as she makes her exit.

Geto watches her leave with a devious glint in his eyes, something Gojo quickly picks up on. “You already have something in mind?” He asks, already knowing the answer. “Of course I do.”

Gojo grins at this, excitement already coursing through his veins. It’s been awhile since he’s seen that look in his friend’s optics.

This was gonna be fun.

𝙋𝙃𝘼𝙎𝙀 𝙊𝙉𝙀:𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝘾𝙐𝙏𝙀

It was calculated, it had to be. Gojo’s not very fond of plans or abiding by rules, however this had to be perfect.

It had all began when he did some poking around and found you frequented the campus’s library With pestering(bribing) Shoko he finally got vital information about your whereabouts. So much for her not helping.

Tuesdays and Wednesdays you went to the campus cafe.

Monday, Thursday, and Friday were all spent at the library after your lectures.

And you worked part time at a bakery next door to the Campus, the days ranging from Saturday to Wednesday.

His informant told him you go alone all the time. Flawless,for his planned execution, he would make sure this interaction would have his target eating from the palm of his hand.

He sits back on the cushioned chair, his blue eyes closing in thought. He wonders what you’d sound like. You didn’t look like much when he saw a glimpse of you at the party, he recalls you appearing to have just rolled out of bed, uncaring about your perception. He wonders if you know about him…it’s impossible not to in all honesty. Gojo and his peer have been well know since their arrival at the University. There was never any silence when his name was brought up—there’s always something to say about him.

He opens one of his eyes, his optics catching a peek of a hurried woman walking past him. He follows her rushed step with tilts of his head, the motions stopping once he caught sight of her face. It was you.

It’s a Thursday after all. Gojo’s glad he didn’t have to wait in this stuffy library for too long. His eyes take in every detail he can about you, your hurried breathes, the pant-leg of your sweats being raised higher than the other, your anxious expression.

You walk over to the librarian, nervously playing with your fingers behind your back. You look frantic, almost like you’re about to cry. Gojo decides now’s his chance. He easily saunters over, a smile painting his handsome features.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Finally, for the first time since he’s saw you he gets to see your face directly. Your face is comprised with softness, all your features complement the others, from your trembling lips to your ample cheeks that remind Gojo of a chipmunk. And your glossy orbs pull him in, something about them being gravitational.

“I’m sorry if I was making a scene—I just don’t understand what’s going on.” You turn your attention back onto the librarian who’s giving you a stern look. “I always return my books on time. I don’t understand this fee! I can’t afford something so high!” Gojo finally sees the receipt like paper in your hand, the hand you’re clenching so hard he could see the whites of your knuckles.

“The system doesn’t lie ma’am. The fee has to be paid for or you’ll be banned from the library.” The librarians voice is absolute and final. She wouldn’t listen to any of your begs and pleas. As he watches the interaction Gojo begins to recall Geto saying he’d make perfect conditions for them to slither their way into your life. It’s dawning on him that now this is the conditions Geto made for them. Sly fox, forcing you in a panicked state.

Later he’ll ask him how he managed to bribe the librarian but for now he needs to take this opportunity. “But 200 dollars?! I can’t pay that right now.” Your voice is pleading, the vocal cords crying for you before you could get the impending water works going. Gojo leans in real close to you, making sure you experience the brush of his lithe fingers on your lower back. “I can pay it.” He says calmly.

For a moment you don’t humor him, your attention still on the librarian. But he makes himself known as he shuffles in his pocket for his wallet. “What? No—No. I can handle this. Please don’t waste your money on my problems.” He scoffs internally, questioning you in his head. You’re in no place to decline any favors. Yet, here you are, hands raised up in frantic defiance, utterance laced with embarrassment.

“No really, I can pay. The faster this ends the faster I can check out my book.” It’s a lie, one that doesn’t have evidence to back it up, as Gojo’s hands are free from holding any literary piece. But it worked to stop your fervent denial, maybe it was your worried state or lack of observational skills, whatever it may be Gojo’s just glad you didn’t point out the absence of said book.

“I’m sorry for being in your way. But you absolutely cannot do that. I don’t even know you and you can’t waste your money on strangers.” Okay this wasn’t going to work. Him playing a good samaritan would be fruitless if you just denied every time. He has to go with a different approach.

“Okay then, I understand. But would it be too much to ask if I could just check out really quick?” You smile assuredly,”Yes! M’sorry.” You park yourself to the side,allowing the tall man to move up to front of the desk. He doesn’t pull a book from his back, instead his wallet, then his premium credit card that makes a beeping sound as he swipes it thoughtlessly.

You have no room for protests because it’s too late for any of that once you notice what he did. Your mouth is agape and Gojo almost reaches to close it himself but he restrains his urge. You glance at the librarian and then him, then the librarian again, and at last you fix your gaze on him. “Why..,”your voice trails on with disbelief,”w-why’d you do that?”

He shrugs,”Why wouldn’t I do that?” His tone is full of calmness, as if spending 200 dollars on a complete stranger is perfectly normal. Gojo can tell there’s thousands of thoughts that race through your mind. Your mouth opens and closes before you pick the one you verbally want to express. “You shouldn’t have done that. I-I don’t even know what to say.”

“I’ll tell you what, you owe me now.” The man can tell this what you feared that came with his seemingly kind offer. “Owe you? But I didn’t even ask for you to do this.” Your nose is scrunched up in confusion, something Gojo notes as cute. Your hands reach in the compartments of your sweats, searching for the little stray cash you have in there.

You pull out a measly five dollars which Gojo has to prevent himself from laughing at. “I don’t want your money. I want something else.” Again your face scrunches in worried curiosity, your lips forming in a thin line as you await his next words. “Chill outttt, m’ not gonna ask for anything weird.” His hand reaches out for your shoulder, his large hand almost swallowing it. “Damn loosen up, you’re so tense..” he mumbles, which then follows up with soft laughter.

“T-Then what do you want?” You’re frightened and confused, your face beaming your emotions with such truth. He’s glad you’re this easy to shake up, this really would be fun if you keep responding like that. “I see you at that bakery, the one by campus.” He likes the way you drink up his words, appearing to be holding onto every single syllable he’s saying. Shoko wasn’t fibbing when she said you’re a shut in, Gojo feels like any sociable person would respond differently. But you’re so responsive…so accepting of this. It’s addicting to the man already and he’s only just made your acquaintance. He supposes new people don’t talk to you often.

“I like it there and was wondering if I could a bring a friend and have a meal on the house.” Instantly your expression softens by tenfold and your lips finally show their true shape once more. With the worry melted away from your face you say,”Oh my gosh, I was worried for a second. But um,yeah I can give you and your friend a free meal. Two free meals if you’d like. You really helped me out right now.” He bets you feel so special right now. Being noticed by a stranger who paid off your debt, you’re probably swooning. As long as you felt special this would be a walk in the park.

“Perfect! I’ll give you my number so you know when I’m coming.” Your face washes with confusion. Why would you need his number when he could just walk in? It quickly goes away though as he asks for your phone. He takes note of that but doesn’t worry too much about it because you obey and hand him your unlocked device.

While he gives you your phone back,your eyes glance at the contact name he put himself under,”Toru.” “What’s your name so I know what to put you under when you text me?” You say your name and as you do so you notice he already texted himself from your phone. Odd.

“I can’t wait to see you again…,” he practically purrs your name, his singsong voice making sure to drip with affection. “We’re totally friends now.” He watches as your expression mixes in with a new flustered warmth that heats up your entire body. Poor little shut in, can’t handle meeting new people. How cute.

He smiles wide at this, expression leaking with cockiness. He’s got you.

Hook.

Line.

And sinker.

“You wanna know the funniest part Sugu?” Said man, hums in response. “She totally didn’t even fight me. She just let it happen! Can you believe that?” Geto chuckles,”So she’s as socially inept as I thought.”

Gojo scoffs, leaning back in his seat as he rests his hand behind his head,”Ohhhh for sure! She speaks so…awkwardly? I think that’s the best way I could put it.” Geto leans in,”Is that so? How’d she look when she saw the fee? Was she about to cry?” His voice is ridden with faux sympathy. “She literally was on the brink of tears when I walked over. It was crazy—Say, how’d you even get that to happen with the librarian? She was playing into her role sooo good.”

“Easy, I just reminded her who got her hired here.That’s all I needed to do.” The white haired man gasps,”You didn’t tell me you got her hired? How’d you do that?” Geto raises a brow,”Do I have to tell you everything I’m up to?” Without hesitation Gojo nods with passion,”Of course you do! Best friends, remember?”

Geto huffs an amused chuckle” I still won’t tell you. It’s good to have some mystery.” Gojo rolls his eyes and folds his arms across his built chest,”Whatever…I didn’t really wanna know anyway.” Geto smiles, that same close eyed grin he often does whenever he’s around Gojo. “Have you texted her, yet?” Gojo shakes his mop of hair,”No, I wanted to surprise her that I came.”

It’d been a week since Gojo had encountered you. You had texted him a couple times, nothing major but he never jumped to answer you, despite his excitement. Anything he could do to feign closeness with you he would do. He had to leave you hanging sometimes,otherwise you wouldn’t come back for more.

“Does she know about you? About us?” Geto clarifies. “Mmm,I think soo. When she saw me I don’t think she recognized me. But she texted me if my full name was Gojo Satoru and when I said yeah she totally flipped out. So I guess she’ll for sure know who you are once she sees you.”

Geto can’t help but think that a recluse like you still hears new around school. That’d be useful for the future. “I have to admit, I’m kind of excited to meet her. The way you describe her is so entertaining.”

The white haired man is about to begin his sentence but he hears the dinging of the opened door and his eyes quickly meet yours. This is the nicest he’s ever seen you dressed. Wearing some slacks muchhh more form fitting compared to your baggy sweats,paired with a t shirt that had the logo of the bakery plastered all over it. Who knew someone could look immensely better in their work uniform?

Your face goes through a variant of emotions—shock,surprise,recognition, and then finally your mouth etches into a meek smile, one where your upper lip is swallowed by the bottom. “Hey! Come over here! I want you to meet my friend.” Gojo’s hand motions for you to walk, and you comply. You’re fiddling with your fingers as you stand above the two men. “This is Suguru Geto.” He pulls the man next to him in a one armed embrace, almost like he’s a kid showing off his prized possession. Geto doesn’t object to the affection, instead he deepens it by slugging his own arm around him.

Geto holds in a chuckle when he sees you fight back a physical reaction when he gazes into your eyes. You quickly pull away from the contact, eyes rolling down to look at your scuffed up shoes. He fights the urge to tell you to look at him. Barely,but he does. “And you are?” His voice is like honey,deep and seasoned with this twang that is so calming. You say your name quickly, as if you were trying to get this interaction over with before you damn near explode from hot embarrassment.

“Satoru has told me so much about you. He seems to really like you.” Geto eats up the way you tense at his words. This would be a piece of cake. He’d have you wrapped around their finger in no time. “Oh t-that’s so nice! Thank you Gojo.” You briefly look up from your shoes to maintain a glance to Gojo, only to break it once he looks at you. “Call me Satoru..I told you we’re already friends. Geez, you’re so shy.” He teases you lightly at the end, a smirk forming when you shrink into yourself.

“Right, m’sorry. I’m not used to making friends so easily. I’ll remember that…” your voice softens as you shyly say,”Satoru.” The man who you addressed fights back a nasty blush he feels blooming, did you have to say his name so desperately? Geto piggybacks off his friend’s statement,”And you can call me Suguru, any friend of Satoru is a friend of mine.”

“Okay then, Suguru. It’s nice to meet you.” You smile and look at the pair. And your expression is damn near puppies wearing Halloween costumes level of cuteness. Suguru is beginning to understand about what Gojo was saying, you’re very easily accepting. Probably because you’d like to fit in. How far would you be willing to go to please your “friends”? This was gonna be good. Geto fights back a smirk that wants to paint his clean cut face. You were so exciting. What would be the mark of true desperation for you?

“Welll umm I gotta clock in. I’ll be sure to give you guys your free meals as soon as I get my stuff ready.” You politely nod your head before you start walking away to the counter, then disappear into stations blind to the customers eyes. Geto hums as you leave,”I don’t see what Noaya was talking about.” Gojo looks at him as he pulls away from the embrace,”What do ya mean?” He hums once more, thoughtfully,”I’m saying I’d fuck her. She’s real cute.”

“Ohhhhh—that’s what you meant! But I’d fuck her too. You think she’s been fucked before?” Gojo asks excitedly,his lengthy fingers drawing little imaginary doodles onto the table. “Oh no, not a shot she has. You can just tell by the way she clams up when we look at her.” His counterpart grows a wide grin on his face,”What if we change the bet up a bit..” Geto’s interest is instantly peaked,”How so?”

“What if we add in taking her virginity in there too? It’d be a lil more challenging and I know Noaya is already sweating bullets because he knows he’ll lose.”

“That weirdo will probably want proof if we do that.”

Gojo leans forward excitedly,”Then we’ll get proof.” His teeth glittering with mischief as he makes a gesture towards his phone that’s resting a top the rounded table. Geto’s visage is coated with amusement,”I like the way you’re thinking’ Toru.”

“I know I’m so brilliant,huh?” He goofily pushes his hair back, flexing his mass of biceps as he does so. Geto fights back a chuckle he won’t reward Gojo with. Instead he says,”Lemme call Noaya, see what he thinks.” It didn’t really matter what Noaya thought, they’d do it anyway. But maybe if they throw this in he’ll sweeten the deal a bit more.

Gojo nods, watching as Geto pulls out his phone from his baggy pants. He pays no mind to the call, his eyes remaining on your moving figure now clad in a black apron. He observes the way you dutifully make and serve your customers order, hidden behind the person by the cash register. He’s only seen you two times so far but he has to admit he agrees with Geto, you are real cute. Without the clothes that swallow your plush frame whole and with more sleep, you’re damn near hard not to ogle.

He’s tells himself that’s it good to get himself to be more fond of you,that’s all this could be to him. You were an experience to him, a game,nothing but a mere source of entertainment to him. He has to remind himself of this when you rush over to the table,whispering after you notice Geto’s still on the phone. You barely have to bend over as you whisper in his ear,”Quick,what do you and him want?” Gojo feels his lips curl upwards,”You don’t have to whisper,the phone call isn’t important. But I’d like the stuffed waffles with ice cream inside and ouuu extra extraaaaa whipped cream on mine. Oh and a stack of birthday cake pancakes.”

Your mouth widens in shock,just to close it as quickly as it opened. He sure has a sweet tooth. Still whispering you say,”Is that just for youuu or?” Gojo nonchalantly remarks,” Oh yeah, that’s for me. Mmm he likes anything rich and not too sweet—weird I know, but if you know anything like that on your menu he’d want that.” You nod dutifully,”Okay Go—Saturo. I’ll be back as soon as I can with that.”

Geto gets off the phone as soon as you saunter off to make the orders. With a curious brow he says,”Not that important,huh?” Gojo shrugs,”It’s just Noaya. Anyway what’d he say?” Geto buzzes with contentment,”He totally accepted it. I couldn’t say much at the end because..,”he tilts his head in your busy direction,”but he was really eager. And he did ask for proof after we’ve done it.”

“Figures. What made him bite?” The former replies with an amused grin,”I said I’d give him a little pr if we couldn’t do it. I almost feel bad for him, he’ll be at our beck and call for two weeks once we win.” Gojo’s overcame with glee,”Ohhh you upped it? Have I ever told you you’re a genius ‘Guru?” Geto replies,”Maybe once or twice.”

With a foxy grin on Geto’s face, he turns his attention to you, hooded eyes gawking at you in wonder. What would you bring to him? And would he tease you about it if you got his tastes wrong? Decisions, decisions. You’re very entertaining to him. Something about your seemingly awkward demeanor had him wondering what’d you look like when you can’t take attention on you anymore. Was there more to you? Or are you just a meek little thing? He couldn’t wait to find out.

“You stare at her any longer she might have holes in her before she even brings our food.” A teasing voice says. Geto rolls his eyes, resting his head on his palm,”You’re not one who should talk. I saw you staring much longer than I was.” Gojo pouts,”But I’m so discreet when I do it!”

Geto barks out a cackle,”Your eyes are practically neon blue. I don’t want to hear anything about discreetness from you.” Gojo recoils, gasping in feigned hurt,”How dare you! My eyes are my most complimented feature, thank you very much.” Geto motions his eyes up and down Gojo faces, lips forming in a disgusted scowl. Wordlessly judging the man. “Don’t look at me like that! Learn how to control your face.”

With a coy grin on his mug he says,” I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His face is now still, void of any emotion. Gojo huffs,”Switched up because you know I’m right.” He mumbles out the side of his mouth. Before Geto could smartly reply you’re there before him, standing there with three plates in your hands.

“I didn’t know what you would want Suguru but I got you tiramisu shortbread cookies, they’re not really on the sweet side.” You look nervous as you speak something the man you spoke to eats up. “That sounds delicious, thank you.” You place it in front of him, offering a small simper as you do. “And hereee you go, let me know if you want water to wash down all that sugar.” You place Gojo’s hefty plates of sweetness down, holding back an endeared laugh as you his eyes literally glisten with excitement.

“This looks so yummy! Did ya make it yourself?” He’s already digging in, avid hands cutting into his stack of pancakes with silverware that look small in his hold. Shyly you say,”Some of it. It would take too long to make everything from order.” You’re too humble, Geto thinks. As he observed you he saw you making most of their food with a thoughtfulness one couldn’t help but admire.

“Mmm, then I’ll make sure I’ll savor every last bite. You should totally come over to me and ‘Sugu’s house so you could teach me how to make these delicious pancakes.” Your eyes widen in shock, fingers playing with each other nervously. Are people always so accommodating? Since you arrived to university two years ago, people didn’t really talk to you so comfortably or friendly. You’ve made numerous efforts to make friends but you never make the cut once they venture off and make more. The only real friend you could almost confidently say is fond of you is Shoko. But she doesn’t really talk to you as much as she used to.

So maybe that’s why you shakily agree to Gojo’s offer,”Okay, I could teach you but no promises that I’m good at giving instructions.” Maybe you wouldn’t have if you weren’t so lonely. If you weren’t hungry for a genuine friendship. But you wanted to be like everyone else. But through your blind want, you miss the gaze the two men share, coated in deviousness.

“Perfect, you can come over tomorrow! Maybe we could watch a movie while we eat our hard work.” Gojo suggestion makes you clam up more yet you find yourself agreeing before you could really think. “I’ll pick the movie. You like horror movies?” With his gaze scrutinizing your reaction, your fidgeting grows even more apparent. “Umm I don’t like to watch them alone.” You’re always alone though. Something you hoped they couldn’t pick up on.

“You won’t be alone. You’ll be in good company.” Geto’s voice is like an alluring purr, one you can’t force yourself to defy. “Okay, that sounds good. I gotta head back to work, I hope you’ll enjoy your food.” You offer a rigid wave that they both return, fighting their mirth at the small action.

When you’re out of ear shot Geto gives his companion a proud look. “Good thinking with the house idea. I think that’ll get her closer to us.” With the new incentive on the table Geto couldn’t take the plan as slow and methodical as he would enjoy. You had to get attached to them as quickly as possible so they could complete the task at hand and then go about their business. It shouldn’t be difficult, you seem to have such a hard time not pleasing them. And unfortunately Gojo wasted a week of the short month they’ve been given to complete. Leaving him to work with a time frame of a measly three weeks.

With a mouthful of desserts stuffed in his mouth Gojo asks,”You think that’ll work? She doesn’t even really know you yet. I know she already likes me.” Geto reaches for the plate, taking a bite of the cookies that perfectly suited his tastes,” I got a plan. I’ll grow on her.” Gojo shrugs, trusting his friend. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it.”

They begin eating, though their eyes are not staring at the food, instead they’re resting on every movement you do. It’s like you’re their personal tv, the show to go with their meal. They’ll make comments here and there, discussing little things you do that they find entertaining.

Before they know it their food is completed. Gojo brings a satisfied hand to his belly,”Man I’m stuffed. You really should’ve tried some, it was so good!” Geto leans back, wiping any evidence of the cookies off his face,”No thanks. I like to keep my trips to the dentist at a minimum Toru.”

“Whatever, you’re totally missing out.” Geto answers,”If you say so..but anyhow give me her number.” Gojo picks up his phone from the table and already begins typing the in digits,”You’re gonna text her when we leave?” With a ding from Geto’s phone, he gazes at the notification with a smile,”Something like that. I’m going to walk her to her dorm. “ Gojo hums,”Think she’ll let you?”

Geto scoffs,”Of course she will. And if not I think I’m very convincing.” Gojo shrugs,”Alrighttt well let me know what you’re going to do, I gotta head out before my lecture starts.”

“As if you’re not always late.” Geto says, cheekily. “Hey! I’m trying to get better and my professor totally doesn’t like me. I think I should get him fired as soon as I can.” The black haired man smiles,”If that’s in your best interest do it. But if you really have to go that lecture, it’s already eight o clock, so you’re already late.”

Gojo jumps up, gawking at his phone to make sure it’s true and unfortunately it is. “Shit…I gotta go. Bye!” Gojo stands up urgently and rushes out the glass door, halting once he didn’t say his bye to you,”Bye thank you so much for the yummy food! Can’t wait to see ya tomorrow!” Your head snaps at the mans loud voice and you just reply with a wide smile and a polite nod. Geto’s goodbye mirrors your own, a wordless one.

Once Gojo’s presence is no longer Geto pounces. He stalks over to your station and motions with his finger for you to come to the front. With a few glances from your coworker working the cash register you hesitantly step up to speak to him. “Umm, yes?”

“It’s getting late, and Gojo had to leave so I was wondering if I could walk you to your dorm?” His voice is honeyed, kind and tranquil in way that ignites something deep in your belly. “I don’t get off until twelve, I’d hate for you to waste time waiting for me.” It was strange and abnormal with how friendly they were being. You’ve never had people be so kind to you well…ever. It feels like there’s something underlying you can’t quite put your finger on.

But then again, that longing for friendship. That want for companionship like your peers dipped into your heart and not your brain. Why not have hope that two of the campuses hottest men want to be your friend? “I have nothing better to do..besides I want to get to know you more.” Your lips form into a thoughtful thin line,”I—,” you want to begin but Geto’s eyes are peering into yours in a way that has you questioning your words,”umm I don’t know.”

Geto’s expression oozes this smug all knowing feeling. His smile still remains polite but it’s more strained,”I’ll be here when you make up your mind.” He already knew what your answer was going to be. It would be a resounding yes because Geto is almost too perceptive for his own good.

That’s why when you hesitantly call his name he has to feign surprise. “U-Um actually I’d like that.” He nods and gives you smirk that causes butterflies to rumble in the wake of your lower belly. You get that feeling he could tell you weren’t going to say no to him.

But you don’t dwell on that—work was too busy for that. As you carry out your mandated tasks you can’t help but feel watched. So much so that occasionally you crane your head facing the customers and every time you do there’s no one’s observing gaze.

You tell yourself you’re overthinking and being just a tad more self conscious than usual. You were always aware that people gawked at you—either for your plump demeanor or ill dressed body that you always dressed in comfy clothes no matter the occasion. Many people often assumed you didn’t take care of yourself because of that and to a certain extent you, yourself wouldn’t be able to tell them they’re incorrect. It had started because of insecurity at first—to cover the fat of your belly and the way it pokes out, to hide the thickness of your arms when you turned to the side, to shield the dimples and marks that stretch all over your body. But as you reached adulthood it was just because you couldn’t be bothered.

Insecurity melted away when you met reality. Sure,some people would make crude comments but that’s how life is unfortunately. Your body couldn’t be of any of your concern when you were more worried about your college experience wasting away in front of you. Girls that were more popular than you in high school always said you’d find boys that would worship you like they worshipped them when you went off to college—that would come along with finding friends that would be tried and true to you. Yet, here you are. In your second year of university and basically friendless. A kiss-less virgin that hadn’t even been asked out on a date before.

Pathetic. This feeling you would nurse everyday by consuming yourself within your favorite hobbies. Hobbies that revolved around you being fawned over by unreal men—otome games, visual novels, the works to fill that hole of your mundane life. Your contentment didn’t come from a real boyfriend coddling you and loving the way you wanted. Your happiness didn’t come from friends that wanted to hang out with you. It came from all things fictional, an unfortunate thing for the many innocent and…less than pure thoughts you had haunting your craving mind.

Maybe that’s why your heart soars when you still see Geto sitting handsomely at the table, awaiting for you to be done with your shift. When you walk over to him his eyes are as enchanting as ever. “Is your shift over?” He asks. “Yeah, I tried to hurry and change as fast as I could. Didn’t wanna keep you waiting any longer.” The sentence fuels Geto’s pride-you didn’t wanna keep him waiting any longer. How cute.

“It’s okay, I didn’t mind the wait. Should we get going now?” His suggestion sounds more like a command, one you find yourself obediently following when opens the door for you to walk out. You wish your goodbyes to your coworkers, missing the way they whispered amongst themselves once you had your back facing towards them.

Your face is fanned by the cool breeze of the night, a blissful sigh falling from your lips once you feel the sensation. “Windy night.” You say in an ungainly manner. Cringing inwardly when Geto doesn’t give you a verbal response, only nodding his head in agreement.

The walk begins in silence and the whole time you’re gazing at Geto from the corner of your eye. He’s so collected, much more calmer than Gojo, but he’s just as playful and teasing from what you seen today. His sharp nose is almost hawk like, dipping down into the perfect tip of it. Something about Geto oozes dominance—a quiet one, a predatory one. Perhaps it was his feline like eyes that poured into your entire soul when he stared at you far too long. His features mismatch to forge his handsome face into one intimidating apex beast.

In contrast to his friend, Gojo seemed more open, more friendly and sillier. But you got the same feeling from both of them the longer they gazed at you. At the library you were honored someone so kind would pay for you, especially with the stranger being so well known and handsome. Yet, he looked at you with this gaze that screamed predator, like the kind act he did came with far bigger payment than free food.

The similar gaze Geto is giving you right now. You force your head to the side to avoid how naked and vulnerable his eyes make you feel. You needed to talk, anything to stop him from looking at you like that. So naturally you open your mouth to say,”Umm did those hurt?” His gaze is softer now, less focused, causing a small sigh of relief to briefly leave your mouth. “Did what?” He replied.

You point to your ears, motioning the lobe,”Your gauges.” His gauges were interesting to you because he no other piercings or body mods. It was simple,clean, just like he appeared to be on the outside. He grabs his dangling lobe,”Not really, it’s been so long since I got them done. I’m not planning on stretch them anymore either.”

You thought his response ended there as you open your mouth to reply but you quickly close it once he asks,”Would you like to touch them?” Geto revels in the way you noticeably fluster at his invitation. “Sure if you don’t mind.” He shakes his head and leans real close to your hand,”Go ahead, it won’t hurt if you tug.”

Your fingers carefully raised to the stretched skin, rolling it between the tips,unaware of the way the man before you watches with glee. You don’t do it for too long, quickly getting embarrassed at the way he unapologetically ogles you. “What’d you think?”

“Feels mushy and really soft. Is it weird that I said that?” He chuckles loudly into the night,”No not at all, I like that description. You know I don’t really let anyone do that, not even Gojo.” You’re tentative in your response, eyes refusing to look at him. Again he fights the urge to tell you to look at him, to stop being so meek. This time it’s harder to bite his tongue. “Really? Why’d you let me?” You begin to feel fluttering in your tummy, trying to ignore the way your body responds to his intimate words.

It was on purpose. He wants to make you seem closer to him than you really are. It’s easier this way, faster too. But the idea wasn’t pre planned because he really doesn’t let anyone touch his ears. “I guess you could say I’m already growing fond of you. “

Your eyes widen and your mouth is bitten between your teeth. You’re already playing with your fingers, a sign of emotional overload that Geto picked up on the first time you did it. He thinks you’re going to ask him why—question the man you only met today, be suspicious of him. And he’s prepared to answer. He came into this knowing you might find him and his accomplice odd.

He’s pleasantly surprised to hear,”I…um..I’m fond of you too.” It’s shy and low, but it didn’t need to be loud, Geto heard it crystal clear. “I’m glad, because I’d also like to be friends with you. Gojo always keeps the good stuff to himself so I hope he won’t mind sharing you.” You gulp, audibly, astounded by his words. He wanted to be your friend, said you’re a good catch, this had to be a fantasy of yours coming true.

“I don’t think he’ll mind. Plenty of people like him a lot—you too though! I know you both are very popular here.” Geto perks up brow, interested to see where you’re going with this,”Are you not popular yourself?” You snort in genuine laughter,”Oh God noooo, I don’t even think a total of five people from all my classes even know my name. I’m basically a nobody here.” You’re basically a nobody everywhere, but to save face and your ego you don’t say that part aloud. “Why not? You’re really pleasant to be around.”

You laugh again, still greatly tickled,”Look at me,” you gesture your hand up and down your body,”I don’t exactly scream popular material, do I?” And Geto does look at you, examining your untucked shirt, your hair style that looked like it was done in two minutes or less, your face that’s bare of any enhancements to your beauty. You looked different from that night at the party, not as cozy or as homely, but still your appearance lacked effort. Despite your lack of care for your appearance, Geto still thinks you’re real cute.

“I am looking at you and I still don’t see why you wouldn’t be popular.” You roll your eyes,” I appreciate that but there’s no need to soften the blow I get from everyone else. I know who I am in this world and I’ve grown to accept it.” Getos brows furrow,” And who is that?”

You don’t know what to say—invisible, a dud, a flop, a loser. Instead you settle for the much more gentle answer,one that doesn’t make you want to cry,”An underdog. I’m not for everyone, but I know the people I am for will love me to bits.” It’s hopeful and wistful, full of hunger for your desired future.

It almost makes Geto feel bad for doing this. For using you for entertainment—he quickly stops the budding ache of guilt he feels in his heart. Rather, he fuels your hopeful words,”I hope I’m around long enough to be apart of that.” It was sick, his words. It was wrong to give you hope, knowing what he plans to do to you.

But seeing your eyes light up and a charming smile to your lips made him feel a tad better. “I hope so too.” He returns the action, his eyes pulled tight and shut. As heart warmed as you truly felt by his uplifting words, your brain just processed something. How’d he know the exact direction of your dorm?

He never fumbled about or asked where to go not a single time. Quickly, you’re unnerved and your smile forms into a concerned frown. You stop walking completely, backing away from him just in case his kind demeanor was a ploy for something more sinister in store. He easily notices the change in behavior, craning his neck to look at your shaken form.

“What’s wrong?” He walks closer but it’s useless because every time he does you back up an extra three steps. Now you’re about six feet apart, a safe distance to run if needed. “How’d you know where my dorm is?”

He guffaws, clutching on his stomach with one hand, the other waving in a come here motion. “Don’t worry, I’m sorry I should’ve told you before we started walking. I’m friends with Shoko, your roommate.” He regained composure as you stepped closer to him.

You feel hot embarrassment flow down the tips of your ears and neck. God, second hot friend and you’re suspicious of him. Not a good look. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have thought that. But you know some people are…” You voice is faint, like if you speak any louder you’re going to embarrass yourself even more.

“It’s all good, a completely normal concern to have. But c’mon we’re almost there.” He takes hold of your wrist, it’s loose and friendly but it still knocks the air out of you. He’s practically dragging you before you realize you’ve been dragging your feet in a haze. You expected Gojo to be so touchy but not Geto. Maybe they’re more alike than you even thought.

You expected him to let go of you once gained control of your own two legs. He doesn’t. His grasp on you is a constant through the little commute you have left. And he’s so calm about it. Never looking back to see your reaction. His head full of neatly done hair stays positioned in front of him.

You’ve had friends in the past, if one could call them that. Yet, none of them have ever been as friendly as Geto and Gojo. None of your prior friends even paid for a hangout, let alone a 200 fee for you. Nor, did any of them offer to walk you home if it was late. Was this what it really was like when people actually liked you?

“And we’re here.” His voice is like an alarm clock, waking you up from your daze. “Oh, I didn’t even realize. That went by quick.” You pull your key from your pocket and Geto takes note of the little figurines from media you like. That could be useful.

You turn to Geto,”Thank you for even walking me home, you barely know me and you really didn’t have to.” You have the key in, twisting it as you wait for his response. “Yeah of course, I can’t have a pretty lady walking home alone so late.” You see why so many woman fawn over him. Well you saw before because you have a working set of eyes..but now you truly saw the charm that complements his handsome face. He’s a perfect gentleman, at least it seems.

You try not to show how being called pretty by him affects you, but you can just tell he knows by the way his lips curl confidently. “Uh..well, yes, thank you.” The door is now open halfway, the ajar entrance causing the sounds of a tv to bleed out. “Is it okay…,” his eyes scan you as he slowly pieces together his sentence,”if I come in? I have to use your bathroom. It’ll be real quick.”

You open the door wider, nodding hesitantly,”Yeah but please don’t judge I’ve been too tired to pick up lately.” You both enter the door, Geto being the last one in as he closes it behind him. You both are greeted with the sight of Shoko, passed out on the couch with an unlit cigarette between her lips. She was always so tired and you couldn’t blame her, she studied and worked hard. That’s why you never blamed her when she didn’t have to time to hang out with you.

You walk over to her, grabbing a stray blanket on the arm of the furniture and carefully draping it over her. Whispering, you ask,”Do you know where the bathroom is?” He nods before pointing in the direction of the restroom, stating silently he’s going there. You don’t respond, instead focusing your efforts on fixing Shoko’s seemingly painful bent neck. A proud grin forms one your face when you successfully don’t wake her.

You hear the closing of the bathroom door and you’re wondering if he’d be long. You so badly wanted to take a shower as soon as possible. You decide to distract yourself by making something quick and easy to eat. You survey the kitchen cabinets, stopping once you spot your favorite instant meal. It wasn’t nutritious, but it was tasty and filling. When you’re tired from working that’s all that mattered in your books. You hear a distant, shushed voice, and you think Geto may be on the phone. None of your business though, so you don’t dwell on it.

You begin prepping it for the microwave, popping it in as silently as your old device would allow. It would take awhile so you busied yourself by scrolling on your phone. It was mindless and self indulgent, you weren’t in the mood for thinking much. Just as you were really getting into your scrolling Geto is standing before you, quietly. You don’t know how long he’s been standing there but you hope it wasn’t long due to your less than flattering relaxed posture.

“Oh..Geto you surprised me. You’re really light on your feet.” It’s more than a whisper but less than your normal speaking voice. “Did I spook you? Toru always tells me I need bell when I surprise him like that.”

“I’ll have to agree with him, you’re really quiet. But umm..are you gonna go now?” The question sounds ruder than you intended it but Geto seemingly takes no harm from it. “Yes, I’ll be out of your hair soon. There’s something I wanted to ask you before I left though.”

You perk up as you face way from him, grabbing the hot food from the microwave. “Yes?” Your eyes are waiting, looking at him like he’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever came across. “What do you want with Satoru?” His eyes are dark, no longer that honey brown color that feels welcoming.

Geto hates to admit that he’s fighting visible glee once he sees your confused reaction. You’re so expressive, so obvious about whatever you’re feeling, it’s enthralling. It’s such a shame he’d only get to see you behave like this for a month, but things like this would make up for that short time frame. “I don’t want anything with him..I thought we were beginning to be friends.” You’re greatly lost on the implications his words carried. It’s not like you begged the man to pay for you. He offered, multiple times!

He stalks closer to you, til he’s flush against your stomach. He’s so close you could clearly smell his sandalwood scent. “Are you sure? Many people try to get close to him and I want to make sure you’ll be good to him.” His voice is low, no longer carrying that lightness it usually held. You attempt to back away from him, but the lower of your back is grabbed by his stealthily hand.

He keeps you against him, enjoying the contrast of your plumpness on his leanly defined stomach. You were real cute. Even cuter when you were panicked. “I…,”your eyes are looking all around, searching for anything other than his piercing ones,”wouldn’t do that. I’m not that kind of person.” He coos,”Are you? How are you going to prove that to me?”

Once more you keep your eyes away from him, but this time Geto can’t hold his tongue. He clutches your chin with his thumb and pointer,”It’s rude not to look at people when they’re talking to you, don’t you know that? Look at me.” He gives your chin a gentle tug that has warning strength behind it. A pleased smile graces his lips,”There we go. Now tell me, how are you going to prove that to me?”

Now staring into his eyes you’re forced to look at a desire that you can’t place. You’re shocked,frozen by his sudden shift. He’s calm but not in the relaxing sense anymore. He’s cold, calculated, as if he knows your every move. “I don’t know. Why are you doing this?” He shushes you, rubbing his thumb calmingly on your chin. “I told you why,silly. I have to make sure you’re going to be a good friend to Toru. You know he’s a very sentimental guy—I hate to see my friend hurt again.”

You did want to be Gojo’s friend and Geto’s despite this odd predicament he now put you in. Maybe he was joking..pulling your leg like most friends do. You’d like to believe that but his eyes told another story. Surprisingly, you’re shocked you’re not even more scared. Is it because he’s so handsome? Is it because you crave intimate relationships so badly you don’t care how you get treated? Perhaps it was both.

“I wouldn’t hurt him..I wouldn’t hurt anyone.” Your response is weak and Geto expected that. “Then show me. Make me feel like you’re a good friend.” You shake your head, confused on how to even do that in a short amount of time. “You know how to do that. Friends give each other favors. And you know what favor I want from you?”

“No.” Geto smiles wide and shiny,”I want a kiss from you. Show me you really care for your friends.” You didn’t want your first kiss to be with a barely known acquaintance. You always pictured it’d be with a loving boyfriend, a perfect one that accepted all your flaws. Not a man you welcomed in your dorm. “I can’t.” Geto’s grip on your chin tightens,”No? Why is it your first kiss?”

You’re too embarrassed to admit that is the truth. So you say nothing, neither confirming nor denying it. “Oh it is, huh? Even better to kiss your friend then. C’mon do you not think I’m attractive? I’ll be a good teacher.” Geto was far from unattractive and you both knew that. Would it be so bad to kiss a beautiful man that wants to do it first? It wasn’t how you wanted it but you were never put in a position of choosing any different.

“Okay, just one.” Your response is all he needed once you feel his lips on yours. It’s a gentle peck that soon turns into his tongue licking at your lips to open up. He pinches the rolls on your back for entry and he gets it. You’re clumsy and confused, your tongue jumbling with his. The kiss isn’t very enjoyable for Geto but that wasn’t the point of this. He wanted to see how far you’d really go if he’d asked. And you gave him the perfect response.

He did find pleasure in other things though. Your whines, your shut eyes that are clenched so tight, your hands gripping for life on his shirt. Too much pleasure it seems because he feels himself stiffen within his baggy pants. He pulls away with a satisfied expression,”You aren’t very good. But it’s okay, I’ll ask you for many more favors in the future.” He kisses your chubby cheek and lets go of the hold he had on you.

You’re wordless, shocked at what just happened. You just kissed one of the most popular guys at your university. And he asked first! It was obvious to you that Gojo spiel was a lie, an excuse to do this to you. But why? If he had just asked normally you would’ve folded no pressure. It was almost like he was trying to humiliate you.

“You’ll be a good friend to him…and me. Don’t be so scared next time, we’ll ask for things like this from you. It’s what friends do.” It was clear that you had a very different definition of friendship than Geto. But you didn’t mind.

Because if friendship with them meant you’d get kissed at random then you wouldn’t complain despite how his approach made you feel. This didn’t feel like a budding relationship though—it felt like a well connected trap and you were falling right into it.

Geto pats your shoulder,”Eat your food before it gets even colder. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You just stand there.

And he leaves. A wicked look pained on his face. You were in deep now. He’s got you even closer.

Lock.

Stock.

And barrel.

The next day Geto and Gojo were elated when they saw you dressed up for them. You weren’t wearing sweats nor your work uniform, instead you had your seemingly best outfit, one that complemented your features very nicely.

You had seemed casual at first, answering all their small talk with normal vigor. But every time Geto got even an inch closer to you you’d tense. It was so bad you would fumble your words and avoid eye contact. The memories of the night before haunting you greatly. You had dreams of more than just a kiss, that the hand on your lower back reached for something beneath, digging his smart digits into the malleable flesh. You felt guilty—perverted by your thoughts. He had asked to kiss you but not for anything more.

So every time he’d directly speak to you, your mind flashed to the all too real fantasy of him picking you up on the counter, hushing you while your roommate slept, relishing in the way you fell apart on his fingers. You were no stranger to many dirty dreams, often waking up in the middle night to ease the throb in between your legs. But those were all fictional, never even attainable. Geto is real though and it wasn’t right for you to think of him that way. He had kissed you. But as of now you’re still barely friends—it’s an unorthodox friendship, but still a friendship regardless of what occurred before it’s still nothing more.

And besides the reality of having a wet dream about your brand new friend, there was something else that was bothering you. The manner he went about asking for a kiss. It wasn’t worth the effort. The lip lock lasted about thirty seconds—you’d know you were counting it in your head. It went by just like that and suddenly you were no longer part of the never been kissed club. Something you put so much emphasis on was gone just like that, as if your whole dream of kissing the one could be nothing more than just that, a dream.

If it wasn’t worth the effort so why’d he try to conceal it behind a motive? . A silly one at that. Especially because of the rumors going on during lectures were true—Gojo wasn’t the one being wounded, he was the attacker. And Geto wasn’t any better. It felt like a game, one you would never have a chance of winning. That was your brain talking, the part of you that’s not trapped in their web quite yet.

Your heart, your body, on the other hand were just getting wound tighter and tighter. And soon you felt you’d be eaten whole. Yet, you couldn’t prevent the way you felt special within their gaze. Like you amuse them. Like you bring something to their life. Like you’re really needed. With every compliment, with every touch that hovered a little too long, with the way they looked at you like you’re the only thing that mattered in their orbit. It’s hard to use logic when they make you feel the way you craved all your life. So you let yourself melt into them, just a little bit. Just so little so you don’t get stuck in their gravitational hold.

That’s you how you end up leveled with Gojo’s built chest, his muscular arm dwarfing the one you’re using to stir the pancake batter. His grip is encasing your hand, refusing to let up no matter how many times you protested that this was a single person task. His voice tickles your neck, your back stiffens against him,”You’re a lot calmer now that Sugu went to shower, want to tell me why?” His voice is low and sultry. Just a hair off from being seducing.

You feel yourself hold back a shiver. You couldn’t lose your composure again. “I’m just a nervous person. I’m not used to hanging out with so many people.” It’s rushed, to prevent Gojo from stopping your half truth. “Is that right?” His grasp tightens, visibly to the point you see defined veins pop up on his bicep. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You push your back on Gojo, a poor attempt of pushing him away. You try once more and your efforts get rewarded with his giggles. “What’re you doin? Trynna run?” It’s teasing, too teasing for you to handle. You didn’t want to talk about the kiss. You didn’t want to reveal your urges, not when you’re finally making a connection, an odd one,but still it’s better than nothing. Right?

“No I’m just uhh..trying to get a pan. The batter is getting over mixed.” With that he releases you, but still hovers, as if he’d tackle you if you moved too far away. “You have a mouth, don’t you? Use it next time you want somethin’. “ The way he says mouth has you tensing. His tone sounding like he’s hinting at something. You don’t want to find out so you play coy. “Bottom cabinet, under the sink.”

He lets you off without a response to his demand. Relieving you greatly, your shoulders noticeably slumping back in normal formation. “Okay thanks.” You bend over to get a medium sized pan, trying to ignore his vigilant stare. What was going on with them? They were so normal before. Now..they were acting like they couldn’t wait to pounce. And pounce for what? You truthfully didn’t know.

You doubt this was their behavior to new friends. It was too confident, too authoritarian, too smooth. Any normal person would’ve never talked to them after the stunt Geto pulled last night. Any sane person would’ve fought Gojo harder with his insistence of closeness. But unfortunately, for your sake, you weren’t normal. You were lonely. Touchstarved and clingy to anything that would stick around for you. It’s shameful and you wish you weren’t so accepting of ill behavior. What would push you to say no? Would you even say no to them?

The thought makes you want to gag. It’s quickly wafted away when Gojo’s voice pulls you back to the present,”So are youuu going to put it on the stove or are you just gonna be staring at the wall?”

You apologize hurriedly and place the pan on the stove, turning the nob to medium heat. “We have to wait a bit for it to warm up.” Gojo nods, but he doesn’t really care for the making of the pancakes. His eyes scan your rigid person, lips quirking up in a ribbing way. “Have you been kissed before?”

It’s silent. Too silent. And you’re somehow even more tense than before.

“Why are you asking me?” Your voice is uneven, and you curse yourself for not having a better hold on your nerves. “I was just curious, you seem very shy so I wasn’t sure.” You want to feel relief once he says that but you don’t. It sounds like he knows more than he’s letting on.

“Oh well I don’t really like talking about things like that.” You pray that your answer is enough for him to back off and for now it is. “Alright, but I’ll know the answer sooner or later. Is it warm enough now?” He points to the pan and you dip your head yes in response. “It is, do you know how to get the perfect shape for pancakes? My job taught me this.”

He shakes his head and you beckon him over. You grab the glass bowl, pushing the ladle to the side he’s on. “I’ll teach you the best I can.” He takes hold of the tool,looking at you expectantly. “So you’re going to do a half scoop, it’s important you don’t fill it all the way.” He does so,”Like this?” You smile, pleased,”Yeah, just like that. Now place it as thin as you can onto the pan.”

He follows your instructions, grinning wide and prideful once he sees the perfected round shape. “Oh you’re a natural, took me a couple shifts to get that shape.” Your praise gets the reply of Gojo patting his chest,”I ammm pretty good at most things. If I say so myself.” You giggle,”Is having a big head one of those things?” As the words leave your mouth your hand slaps against it. You attempt to backtrack, hoping no offense would be taken.

But he doesn’t even let you have enough time to do that. “I get to have a big head, I can back up all my talk.” He steps closer to you,”Want me to prove that to you?” You begin hearing Geto’s words, reliving the day before that seems so close to this moment. You needed to avoid such banter, seeing how that is what you got you under Geto before.

“Uhh..you can prove it me by doing that again with the pancakes.” He backs off,”Bet, watch this.” He does a swirling motion leading to another perfect circle. To emphasize his point he follows that with two more. “Aren’t I so talented?” You smile,”So talented, I think you’re better than me right now.”

“The student always surpasses the master.” It’s cheeky. But that cheeky tone soon falters once the aroma of burning fills the kitchen. “Shit, I didn’t know they cook so fast.” Hurriedly, he grabs a flimsy spatula to flip his test pancake, wincing once he sees it charred on one side. But his efforts to stop the smoke are fruitless once the beeping of the smoke detector goes off.

You both cover your ears, grimacing at the loud noise. You go to grab a stray towel left on the counter, wafting it towards the source of the noise. “I think we need to work on your actual cooking skills after this.” Gojo makes a noise of agreement as he wafts the cloudy smoke with his hands.

Over the beeping there’s light footstep that could barely be heard. “What’re you two doing?” Geto’s voice pulls you from your focus and the moment you do pay attention , you wish you never did. Geto’s lean form is partially naked besides the fluffy garment he has wrapped around his waist. His inky damp hair is clinging to his forehead and the sides of his jawline. You could feel heat course through your body the longer you gaze at his chiseled body. You swallow a wad of saliva as you turn your head away, eyes held low to stare at your socks.

“We were making pancakes.” Gojo states. Geto huffs,”Yeah, I can smell that you burnt them.” Gojo gasps, offended,”How’d you know I burnt them? It could’ve been her.” You glare at him, his accusation distracting you from the task of getting rid of the smoke. Geto gives him a similar stare that has him retreating from his former words,”It was me..”

“Thanks for that captain obvious.” With a roll of his eyes Geto walks past you both, his damp chest bumping against your back as he does so. Effortlessly he fidgets with the smoke detector and soon enough it’s silent in the kitchen now. “I’m going to get dressed, please don’t set the kitchen on fire while I’m gone.” The last comment seemed like it was for Gojo when Geto gave him a knowing gaze.

He pads off and Gojo pouts, coming to you for comfort as he leans most of his body weight on you. Your breathing becomes labored and your hands are pushing on his chest,searching for less of his heft to be on your body. “G-Gojo, heavy…” you barely can get the words out when he wraps his muscular arms around you. His lips ghost against the skin of your neck as he speaks,”You don’t think I’m irresponsible,right?” His eyes, those beautifully blue eyes, look at you with such expectancy you could feel your breathing become even more laborious.

You’re trying to keep distance from his lips and yours, turning your head away from his as you comfort him,”No,not at all. You could never be that. You’re Satoru Gojo, I think you were born to be responsible.” This was true, he’s the future head of the wealthiest clan and a top student without his families influence. “Think so?” He gets nearer, his maw now inches away from your jaw. “Mhm, I do.” You’re still turned away from him, something Gojo doesn’t appreciate.

“Why do you always hide your face like that? If you really meant that you’d look at me. So c’mon, look at me.” His hold on your upper body grows tighter as he shifts his head to get a better look at you. With your inner lip being nibbled by your anxious lower teeth you stare at him head on, eyes already searching for something else to gaze at.

“Thereeee we go, I like seeing your face. You’re a real cutie. Now, say that again while looking at me.” You tense even more than you have the whole night. Stemming from his praise and his commanding words. It amazed you he thought you were attractive—he’s a Gojo after all. A man made with beauty that was almost unearth like. A man that could have any woman that took far better care of herself than you ever have in your life. And he still thinks you’re cute.

“I think you’re born to be responsible, you’re Satoru Gojo after all.” Your eye contact is shaky but he’s still pleased you’re looking at him directly. “Good job, was that so hard?” You shake your head no, not trusting your mouth to be coherent right now. The way he was talking to was so condescendingly sweet…and you enjoyed it. The heat you felt in your lower abdomen being a testament to that. Now that you’ve done as he asked, you think he’s going to get off but he doesn’t.

“Do you want a reward?” You felt like a well behaved dog with the way he talked to you, not that you minded. You were melting in the way he treated you like a pet, cooing at you with his perfect pink lips. “What would that be?” Your voice is uneven and breathless, speaking any louder would cause it to crack. “I’ll give you a kiss, I know you had one of those last night and I’ll take you shopping in a few days, have a game I want you to come to all dolled up for me.”

You knew it. You knew he was acting off. Geto must’ve told him right after it happened..or before if that’s who he was on the phone with in the bathroom. Was this planned? “Hey, get outta of your head and answer me.” He’s so near now his nose is bumping yours. “Do you want that?” His hands wander down to your ample hips, rubbing the fat that rests there. “I..don’t know.” A reply Gojo’s displeased with.

“Okay..you just need a little bit of convincing.” After he says that his lips lightly kiss your neck, curling up cockily as he hears your breath hitching at the contact. “What’re…..” your sentence remains unfinished as he continues peppering your neck, shushing your words. “ I’m convincing you and I want you to tell me if it’s working so,”he licks a long stripe on the length of your nape,”want me to kiss you?” Another lick,”Want me to take you to get dolled up for me? Wanna come to my game and cheer me on?”

You’re holding back any noises of pleasure, eyes screwing shut to hold that focus. “Hey..,”another light kiss,”answer me.” Shakily, you reply,”Yes.” You can feel his teeth on your neck with his wide smile,”Yes to what?”

“E-Everything.” At your confirmation his lips align perfectly with yours in a soft peck, leaving you disappointed when he pulls away. “Bonus, I’ll teach you to kiss real good right now. Sugu told me you didn’t really know how to do it last night, but don’t you worry I’m a better teacher than he is.” You’re embarrassed that your lack of skill and experience got spread to more than just one person but you can’t dwell on that when Gojo’s lips are so close to yours.

“You’re gonna start slow, no need to rush. I’m not going anywhere..” He pulls you in,lips moving unhurriedly,gentle and easy to pick up the pace. He simpers within the kiss,white teeth glimmering under the artificial light,”Good,just like that. Don’t change it.” You obey and Gojo rewards that with his tongue caressing your mouth.

His hold on your hips tighten,kneading the abundant flesh with seductive excitement. You hesitantly dart your tongue, mirroring his movements. He hums approvingly, hands moving with more fervor than before. He pulls away, breaking the saliva that’s chaining your lips together. “You did really good. You need more lessons though.” Gojo’s eats up the way you’re looking at him with wide eyes, mouth still agape, the sheen of saliva glittering on your bottom lip.

You look so shaken he almost feels bad. But how could he feel bad when you looked so wanton? This bet came from a source of boredom but he could be truthful enough to say he’s growing to genuinely like you. “Do I..?” He grins,”Yeah, I can give you another one right now.” He leans in,eyes watching as you await for him to touch you again.

“Having fun without me?” Geto’s voice snaps you out of your haze, head snapping to look at him. He’s now dressed, only wearing a pair of baggy black sweats and no shirt. What did you look like? Kissing him and his best friend so close in time,in THEIR home?! God, the embarrassment flows through your whole entire nervous system. You snuggle into Gojo’s chest, hiding in it to avoid confronting whatever this is.

The man you’re using as cover chuckles and places a hand on your head, petting it reassuringly. “Just returning the favor. You sure rubbed it in my face last night, didn’t you Sugu?” Geto walks closer until you could feel his front on your rear. You’re sandwiched between them, unable to go anywhere.

“I asked if I could before. Didn’t want to move alone, ‘sides looks like yours was more intense than what I got. That just isn’t fair..” You could feel Geto’s hand on your shoulder and it takes everything in not to flinch at the touch. “Stop hiding please, just want you to kiss me like you kissed him.” Slowly you raise your head and you’re met with a pleased smile,”That’s right,c’mere.” His light coo has you stepping closer to him but only so far because Gojo’s hold on you remains known.

He’s up close and he’s expectant,”Well? Are you gonna kiss me?” You look at Gojo, almost like you’re asking him for permission. This both amuses and pisses Geto off, he found it endearing that you were like a lost puppy but why ask Gojo for permission when he was the one asking? “You’re so rude.” He chides. “Looking at someone else when I’m waiting for you to kiss me. Would you rather kiss him,hmm?”

He now has his big paw on your lower jaw, squishing your face together. “N-No,want to kiss you.” Gojo laughs,”Didn’t know you could be so jealous Sug’, mad she thinks I’m a better kisser?” Geto makes an exasperated face that doesn’t match the honeyed tone he spoke with,”Now, don’t feel flattered someone so inexperienced likes yours, you’re closer to her level.” You didn’t know if you should feel offended for yourself or for Gojo, either way your opinion didn’t really matter.

Gojo scoffs,”Now you’re just lying. You know I’m not bad.” Geto smiles,”How ‘bout we ask you? If you’re honest I’ll make sure to treat you real good if you are.” You don’t know how it came to this point. You’re invited to make pancakes at their house and now they’re in some weird competition? You liked the attention and the kissing..but you also could feel your brain melting with all these new events happening like whiplash.

This was no longer a friendly hangout, it’s so much more and you don’t think you could handle much more. You wriggle your face from Geto’s hold and shove Gojo off with all your might, it barely moves him off and you’re speculating he he even did that because of the effort you put it into it. “Forget about that..what’s going on? Why are you both acting like this?” You’ve never been flattered like this with one person, let alone two. Especially by men so devastatingly good looking. Men that wanted to do things to you.

They acted under the guise of friendship to weasel their way in and it worked. But it’s obvious they want nothing platonic with you. The longer you surrounded yourself with them the more extreme things would get. “Acting like what?” Gojo asks. You motions with your hands, frustrated tone slipping from you,”This! I feel like a game for you two.” Possibly your suspicion grew from your experience in high school and even your early days here—men that were far up on the societal food chain would play games, humiliate you. As if being attracted to someone like you was a huge joke. The kisses, the banter they had about how far they could go with you, the flirting—it felt all too artificial.

It was too quick. So quick you didn’t know how you found yourself growing your newly gained kiss count to a second person. Geto and Gojo eye each other, hoping one then knew what to say before you have a bigger reaction. They had a feeling you weren’t dumb, you were gonna pick up on the escalation of the budding relationship. They had to think and fast, or else the silence might assure your speculations, which are correct. You are a game—they couldn’t let you know that quite yet. Or preferably at all.

Gojo speaks first,”I know this might sound crazy..but it’s something me and Geto both have a thing for.” Geto eyes him, trying to pick up what’s he’s laying down. “You see…we like sharing girls we both like, and it’s really rare when we do like the same one. So that’s why me and Geto said we wanted to be friends at first..we weren’t trying to scare you because two guys at the same time sounds intense. I—We..couldn’t control ourselves anymore. I’m sorry but please don’t stop talking to us,we really like you. I really like you.”

You search his features for any sign of untruthfulness, and he’s void of any. Matter of fact there’s tears teasing his lash line as his eyes look at you with a sense of groveling. But you couldn’t believe him quite yet, it was a good explanation, however it wasn’t enough to wave your accusations. “And you?” You give Geto a pointed gaze, awaiting his explanation. “I…I’m embarrassed to admit but we’ve been plotting to talk to you for a while. I knew you were Shoko’s roommate and thought you were so cute..and she told me you’re not really romantically involved with anyone. So we just tried to go about it the wrong way…but we really thought this would ease you into it.”

This left so many unanswered questions. Geto’s whole spiel last night, the library, it all seemed too perfectly aligned to be just a coincidence. As much as you craved attention from people like this you had to think soundly because you really didn’t want your heart broken. Shoko’s tales of her past few partners giving you nightmares about having a love life,despite all your want for one. “That doesn’t tell me anything…did you guys plan everything? Was any of this real?”

Geto didn’t know you were so sharp, he doesn’t know what he prefers more, your meekness or this? You seemed so eager, so naive. He thought they would go unquestioned by you..but he’s delighted he was incorrect. Maybe you are still naive though, enough he could take advantage of it. He just needed to get past your walls so you’d melt for them.

Gojo speaks again, this time really upping the tears in his eyes,”I promise when I saw you at the library I just saw an opportunity to talk to you. Nothing more. I wouldn’t have paid for you if I didn’t like you.” He steps closer to you, resting his hands on your hips once more,fingers digging in the doughy flesh with desperation. “Please..believe me. If not,one of us will drive you home no questions asked. We won’t even speak to you again.” This was all a lie,they had a bet to win. And they don’t lose. However, Gojo was confident you wouldn’t leave tonight.

To put more pressure on you Geto cuts in, embracing you from behind, words muffled into your shoulder,”Believe us, let us become more than your friends. I promise you won’t regret any of this.” You really hope that was true because your suspicions were wavering. Whether it was Gojo’s pleading eyes or Geto’s appealing embrace that aided you into trusting them—it worked.

“So what does this mean?” Gojo sighs happily, sucking up the congestion caused by his tears,” Means you got yourself two boyfriends now.” Geto adds on, peppering a smooch onto your shoulder,”Hope you don’t mind being shared.”

And you melted into their arms. Just letting yourself enjoy this moment. Even if you were wrong for trusting them you could look back at this and feel the warmth you’re feeling in your heart.

Happiness. So you let them coo their pillowy soft words,let them kiss you, let them coddle you.

This is all you ever wanted after all.

And with every action it’s like they knew that.

PHASE TWO: HOT AND HEAVY

It’d been approximately a week since you’ve got a boyfriend, well boyfriends and you weren’t really sure if things were supposed to be moving so fast. Since it had began something had…shifted.

They’d seemed normal once you agreed to trust them, as normal as a situation like this can make someone look. They were sweet and gentle. Spoiling you in their own ways. Gojo would take you shopping, give you things you couldn’t even pronounce the name of, provide you with a ride anytime of the day. He has a knack for dressing you up in clothes he thinks you look nice in—usually leading you into wearing attire that showed much more skin than you were used to.

And Geto pampered you in a different manner. Whilst Gojo had everything materialistic at his finger tips, Geto was more down to earth. He’d give you cute notes,send you something that’d reminded him of you, help you with your school work, recommend you things that were similar in a heartbeat. And every time he’d do so he had this look on face that was all knowing, like he knew everything about you.

Though they differed in their way of treating you, they had one thing in common. Both their niceties came with a price, an unsaid one. You quickly learned this when the shopping trip for Gojo’s game came soon after the relationship began, he had adorned you with the finest clothing, spewing sentences like his girl had to look the best for him and be dressed in the nicest fashion money could buy. Despite your denial of such treatment he’d hush you every time, telling you this is what good boyfriends do.

And then he quickly followed up with,”If you really wanna pay me back though, get in the car and lay down on the backseat.” He had gotten on top of you, long body resting a top of yours, his maw wandering about on your soft skin. He kissed you wildly, his hands finding comfort under your shirt, squeezing and kneading the pudge you had on you.

He had asked you if you wanted this, if you wanted him to show you how good girlfriends treat their boyfriends. You were silent for a bit, taking weight of what could possibly happen if you said yes. And ultimately you agreed, partially excited for another new experience and partly guilty for all the money he spent on you in just one shopping spree.

The minute you agreed Gojo was on a mission. Lifting up your shirt with haste, hushing you when you got shy beneath him. You had thought he was going to fondle you, feel you up a bit more than he had in the past. But you were mistaken once you saw his dick free from his pants, achy and hard against his abdomen. “What’re are you going to do?”

He cooed,”Just takin my payment. Now, stay still for me, don’t let that pretty face move.” You had expected for him to put it in your mouth, fuck it til you’re gagging and teary eyed but he didn’t. Instead his hunched over frame moved to the side of you, his dick towering above your face, veiny and pretty just like him.

He slapped it down on your cherubic cheek, groaning as you whined at the impact. His throbbing length adjusted completely flat on the plain of your face, his thumb holding the girthy thing taut against the warming skin. Then you felt it, the thick wad of saliva glide on his cock, the excess of it dripping on your cheek. With his free hand he rubs the self produced lube on your face, making it sure it’s smooth enough to glide on.

And he started to hump the side of your face, cocky grin plastered on his own, only breaking when he couldn’t hold a moan in. And he ate up every second of you being so shocked and wide eyed, lips slightly ajar, attempting to find anything to say.

And you took the hour long event. It lasting so long because Gojo paced himself so well, halting the moment he felt himself coming to his end. He taunted you, mushed your boobs together with his lone paw so hard you could feel the blooming bruises grow, slapped your clothed pussy a couple times when he saw you rubbing your legs together. Stating,”It’s my payment, you don’t get to have fun.”

When he finished, his spent plastered all over your plump face he had kissed the crown of your head, voice soft with praises.

And every time you had to pay him back for his treatment, he’d always end with that.

Geto on the other hand…you were experiencing presently. And it doesn’t take a genius to tell you’re nervous. With Gojo he’d always ask for different things from you—a thigh job, a butt job, a boob job, watch him jerk off etc.

But Geto was consistent, less spontaneous than his counterpart. It’d always end up with you in the same position, on your hands and knees, all fours, panties off and your mouth opened awaiting for his dick to enter.

Throat training,he’d call it. He said if you had two boyfriends you’d have to know how to suck real good and he’d make sure he’d teach you real well. You knew that’s the formation you’d quickly be in. You regretted agreeing for him to tutor you because afterwards you’d always have to be pay the charge.

You tried to cancel on him today , tried to make every excuse under the sun. But Geto pushed, stating no person he was dating would be at risk for failing any of their classes.

He places the pencil down, kind smile adorning his lips,”Do you get it now?” You nod, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, preparing for what’s to come. “Good I’m really proud of you for picking it up so quick. You learn really fast.” His hand reaches for your bare thigh, palming it with a reasonable force. “Thank you Ge—Suguru, I’m really trying.”

“I could see that. Aren’t you a smart girl? Say yes.” It falls from your lips quickly,” Yes.” Geto gives your leg an approving pat,”Does my smart girl want a kiss for all her hard work?” You nod,leaning close to him. He closes the distance, low and slow, digits digging into the softness of your thigh.

He begins sucking on your tongue, holding back a smirk as your eyes grow wide at the new sensation. His other hands cups your lower jaw, caressing the undefined curve. He pulls away,looking pleased with you. “Take off your clothes and get into position.”

You obey like a pet threatened with the voltage of a shock collar. Though you didn’t have a physical one, there was something metaphorically around your jugular. It took one time to learn that there wasn’t such thing as saying no to them. It’d always be bombarded with coaxing, guilt tripping words sharp at the edges—threats of what would happen if you weren’t a good girlfriend to them.

And it worked so well because you were afraid of being lonesome again. They doted on you,spent days of their time dedicating to you—and you dare refute their small requests? They didn’t have to say it, they’re actions spoke loud enough,”Someone like you should be happy they’re even touching you, giving you the time of day they could spend with people on their level.”

So, you’re waiting for Geto to make his move. Ass perched out, arch low and groveling, the way he taught you to. He circles you like a shark marking for it’s time to strike, his hand darts out to take an abundant handful of your ass, molding the flesh with a sense of appreciation you hear rumble from his chest. “You’ve gotten so good at this—you seem to be adjusting quite well to everything. I think you need to be rewarded for that.”

In one full motion Geto sinks his fingers into your unaware cunt, halting as the mid part of his two digits dipped in. He lets out a low whistle,”Oh you’re wet, huh?” You whine at the insertion, ass wiggling to make some form of further movement. “Greedy too.” He chuckles as he begins curling his fingers into the warm hole. Face coated with a sense of hubris he always gained from seeing you like this.

He stops once again, pulling his fingers out until just the tips are barely in.”If you want me to continue, you have to say you want me to finger you or we could go straight to training and you get nothing.” You cringed thinking of the suffocating feeling, throat full and head pushed down in an inescapable hold. Nose nudging against his clean shaven pelvis. You bark out,”Please, want it.” For extra measure you attempt to throw your ass back onto his digits, pushing them in a little bit farther than just the tips.

“Want what?” He taunts. “Your fingers—,” your breath hitches as he slides them in deeper,”haaa in me.” He’s pleased with that. His fingers now entering you fully, knuckles deep, stretching the wounded muscle uncomfortably so. You were used to your own stout and pudgy ones, becoming greatly familiar with them on one of your many lonely nights. But this—oh god this, his smart digits were so long, reaching those soppy you could have never dreamed of grazing before.

“See how you get good things when you use your words?” His words were a reminder of what happens when you don’t. The first time he’s ever expected payment back and you were in for a world of trouble. You had argued, stating you weren’t ready for something so fat and oh so long to slide in your unused throat. And you became silent, disobedient, holding your mouth shut and taut even though the tip of his dick tapped on it with politeness.

And you had been reminded you weren’t the one with power. They are. He is. In every sense of the word, they made more money than you, had more societal regard, more strength. Which you felt the magnitude of as his punishing hand slammed down onto your bare ass, slapping without care, rough and heavy until you were brimming with tears and apologies. And the spanking wasn’t the worst of it—the actual part of him abusing your mouth was. He had no pity for you as he heard you gagging, drool coating your chin, eyes rolling back with discomfort. And his pace was relentless, his hands on either side of your head with a stubbornness that was unbreakable. This was a lesson—listen or receive the consequences.

But like this, with his fingers deep in you, purring soft praise into your room, gentle kneading touches of your ass—you enjoyed this form of payment, greatly. With his extremities still tautly bound in your warmth Geto levels his groin to your face, unbuckling his belt, his unfitted pants lowering to his hips as they’re no longer held up. And his bulge was waiting for your mouth to ease the throbbing constricting against his plain colored briefs.

With his pants unbuttoned he instructs you,”Pull it down, nice and slow.” As if he wanted to make the task difficult for you, his fingers curl niceee and deep in your pussy, almost touching that special spot within. Your back straightens out and soft ohhhh falls from you. With unsteady hands you reach for the material, moaning as the up and down motion damn near took control of your senses. As best paced as you could, you languidly slide down his undergarment, stopping once his dick sprang out, hard and proud, smacking on his clothed abdomen.

With just his captivating honey brown eyes he directs you to begin sucking. “No hands, just your mouth.” He demands. And you follow, leaning your mouth close enough until you could taste his salty pre cum on your taste buds. You hollow out your cheeks to the best of your abilities, your sounds of pleasure vibrating on the beginning of his length.

He hums, digging his exploring fingers even deeper, cooing at you as you let out a particularly loud yelp, the sensation going straight to his cock. He thrusts up, eyes shutting in pleasure when you swirl your tongue around his base. “G-Good jobbb, yeah, just like that. You’re doing s-so hahh good.”

Your focused eyes shut in determination. Bobbing your head up and down, sucking harder as you hear his sounds of gratification echo in the room. Your efforts are rewarded with a delicious curve of his extremities sloshing the noises of your wetness tauntingly.

Squelch, squelch! Paired with the wet pops and the clicking of his tip hitting the back of your throat. Bucking forward, his pelvis pushes against your face. His hand caresses your face, eyes now open with affection you’ve never seen before.

“You look so cute like this.” He pinches the pudgy flesh of your cheek, admiring the way it stretched to accommodate the mass of him.

“Keep looking at me like that, don’t shut those eyes—look how good you’re making your boyfriend feel.” He brushes away a tear creeping down your face, contradicting the sweet action with a deeep buck he did within your mouth, dick nice and snug in the vastest confines of your esophagus.

“Such a good girlfriend t-to—fuck, me.” To pair with his praise he flicks up with a greater haste than before. Eating up the way you struggled to keep sucking with his determined efforts. You had your brows pinched with concentration, drool traveling down from your chin to the floor below, and your eyes—oh god your eyes. Teary and fighting to stay open, to be obedient to his words.

“If I make you cum would that help you stay focused more? Hmm, want that?” He nods your head for you, moving it up and down with a choppy chuckle. “I-If you say soo..” he jerks his extremities upwards to the tallest parts of your constricting walls, the tips of the digits massaging oh so well that you can’t maintain being so dutiful any longer.

Your mouth makes a resounding popping sound as you finally come up for air. A high pitched whine falls from you, lids reluctantly shutting despite your best endeavors to keep them open as Geto had requested— but the pleasure was all too consuming.

Your head flops onto Geto’s thigh, mouth agape and letting out the prettiest sounds for the proud man above you. You had expected Geto to chide you, for not listening to him, for doing something he didn’t direct you to do. Instead of that unfolding, his hand resting on your cheek thumbs the plumpness, stroking it comfortingly. He gazed at you with a new emotion he never had before—something so heartwarming it almost distracted you from his fingers wading in your pussy.

The gaze remains so soft and tender, his voice reflecting the same sentiment,”You really are so cute. Even cuter when you’re coming undone on my fingers.” At the moment you feel a coil unfasten in the depths of your belly, a loud keen echoing in the room. You’re unsure if it was his words that led you to your release or the way he particularly caressed your walls in that moment, but the why didn’t matter when you felt so good.

With your cum on his fingers, creamy and shiny, he pulls out of you. Raising them to his lips, he sucks on them til they’re anew, clean and spotless of what had just transpired. “I bet your throat hurts, I’ll give you a rest today.” You’re speechless. This was new. Geto had never let you stop when he was training you prior. It was confusing, his cock was still hard and achy, pearly pre sticking to his shaft. So why stop you?

There’s a tenderness you hadn’t seen of him since he became one of your boyfriends. He was always methodical, planned, and seemingly less fond of you than Gojo was. But at this time that all seemed like a false perception of him. Gojo had always teased you, joked with you, and never let you have a dull moment with him. With Geto he always seemed to like you less than Gojo —but that had to be lie with the way he’s acting now.

Wordlessly, he picks you up, you gasp at the lack of struggle and you don’t even get to protest once you feel yourself bounce back on the softness of your mattress. His stare is worshipping, pupils dilated in absolute revere of your naked form. You don’t know what had switched within but you weren’t complaining, anything to not lose your voice again. “Why are being so..different?” Your voice trails off, quietly awaiting his response.

What had changed in Geto? He always saw you as means of entertainment, just a week ago, he schemed for you to be bending at his will. He didn’t like you. He didn’t care for you. He didn’t even find you that interesting—at first. He thought you were going to be easy, to an extent you were, however he’s grown to like the sides of you he’s seen so far. And he’s grown to feel a sense of protectiveness over you, he views you as weaker than him and Gojo, and he believes the strong must protect the weak.

With every second you looked at him with awaiting eyes, ready to please him, ready to make him happy —ready to do whatever he said just to keep him in your life. That was weak. And Geto grew pity for you that than turned into this new fondness he’s finally became aware of. He had found you difficult to talk to at first, your umms and uhhhs were off putting. And he had looked down at you for that, but now he loves hearing you prattle on in that awkward manner you usually do. He had found the fact that you were so easy to get flustered because it was entertaining to get you worked up, now he finds it so endearing and cute when it happens naturally.

He told himself he’s only forced this proximity for the bet and he doesn’t harbor any affection for you, yet in the short seven days since he’s gotten to know you he’s quickly been hooked. There was something about you he found so..adorable, from your quirks to the way you fiddled with your fingers when nervous—how you depended on him and Gojo. How much they mattered to you in this short time frame. It was wrong to take advantage of your circumstance, of your want for companionship, but he’s glad he could have you like this. Regardless of the bet—he had actually grown to really like you.

So although he remained slightly sadistic he felt more urges to treat you like this—to worship you like a beautiful doll, like you’re actually his girlfriend he met under different circumstances. “I guess…I realized I was being too harsh to you. I’m sorry.” His words hit like iced water. You hadn’t thought he was mean to you in particular.. just detached and much more far removed compared to Gojo. But it was still nice to hear that he’d be more open now.

“It’s okay…but I like you this way. I like when you’re sweet to me.” You say softly. He smiles and leans forward, giving the crown of your head a peck that lasted a couple seconds. He pulls away,”Then let me worship you. Let me gaze at you so I finish myself off—just sit there and look pretty for me.” His words surprised you but still you obeyed, eyes watching as he spat onto his hand.

He then wraps it around the expanse of his cock, observing your plump form with eagerness. He strokes himself, nice and slow, always going all the way down to his base and then back up to the very peak of his tip. His gaze makes you self conscious, it feels like he’s looking through you, eating away at you with his watchfulness. But you don’t hide yourself instead you display your most personal part to him. Spreading your legs wide and proud for him to see your shiny pussy, feeling happy when he groans at the sight.

“She’s so pretty—you’re so pretty.” He groans, nipping on his lip to keep from not yelling. “Spread her open for me,yeah?” With two hesitant fingers you spread the fatty lips, body heated at the action. “Mmmm,look she’s winking at me.” You nearly shut your legs at his words, greatly embarrassed at your pussy convulsing around nothing.

Already knowing how you felt, Geto doesn’t hesitate to console you,” S-Shit—I like that though—haaa fuck, keep her saying hello to me.” With a hearty growl Geto collapses right in front of your parted legs, his mug so close you could feel his strained breathing cooling your molten core.

He eyed your pussy like it was the Mona Lisa, as if it was one of the 7th wonders. His pace quickens and Geto grits his teeth together, forcing his eyes to stay open, he couldn’t miss looking at such a pretty sight. You weren’t a conquest any longer to him—this wasn’t to tease you for your lack of experience this was because he enjoyed you. All that planning and scheming was for nothing because he’s the one wrapped around your finger tightly. How could he not? He’s ashamed to say his resolved dwindled quite fast.

He rests his head on your inner thigh, gracing the skin with little kisses when his sounds of pleasure didn’t take over his mouth. He grabs the pudgy limb,digging his fingers in to get a better hold of himself. He was close, oh so close. “T-Thank you,” he lays a peck on one of your lips,”you’re such a good girlfriend.” His eyes clamp shut and a small bead of sweat streaks down his temple,his maw finds asylum in your leg, silencing his groan into the abundant flesh.

He arises, his hand painted a creamy white. He’s sitting on his knees and he slots his clothed body on your naked one, settling down to rest on your soft middle. “Do you mind cleaning me up?” He quietly asks, lifting his hand nearer to your maw. You shake your head no and begin lapping up his seed, focused and efficient. As you clean Geto narrates,”I have class in thirty minutes ..a shame I wanted to watch that show you’ve been telling me about. I’ll tell Toru to keep you company once I leave, how does that sound, hmm?” You don’t miss the way your heart hammers against your chest at the mention of the show—you had told him about it a couple days ago in a offhanded conversation, never expecting him to care enough to recall. He cared enough about your interests.

During this week you were suspicious you were some type of plaything for the duo. But Geto especially had shown you there’s care in this. It gave you relief that you were wrong. You halt your grooming to reply,”I’d like that, a lot. What’re you going to do then…before your lecture?” You ask right before you get back to licking his digits. Geto smiles lazily,”I’m going to stay here with you, hold you while I can.” To emphasize his point he nuzzles his face in your neck, exhaling comfortably on the skin.

You give one final lap of his once soiled hand and place it down, grinning at this softness he’s never shown you before. Despite this being a full week of dating it felt like a lifetime for you and you’re beyond glad you reached the point in said lifetime where things felt domestic between you and Geto. You never encountered that feeling with Gojo, that man was overly familiar from day one, there was no being distant from him no matter the amount of time knowing him.

With his hand now cleaned Geto embraces both his arms around your ample waist, placing you in a tight bear hug. You reach out for his long black locks, running your fingers through the silky strands. “Sugu..do you actually like me?” He hums,”Of course I do, I wouldn’t be dating you if I hadn’t. What a silly question.” You always thought something was a matter with you prior. There had to be if you had no close connections in your life, so it’s nice to be told you really are liked by somebody. “Okay, that makes me happy. I..like you too.”

He laughs,” I know you like me. But aren’t you sweet for telling me..now stop asking me silly questions and let me get some rest before my terrible lecture.” You chuckle lightly,”Okay, M’sorry, I’ll let you get some rest.” As thanks he places a chaste kiss on your neck before he shuts his eyes. He couldn’t help but hide his amusement at your question, if only you knew how much he really had grown to like you. You were just a bet, yet with him resting oh so domestically a top of you his mind can’t help but think of coming home to you like this everyday. Making you cum with his body, having you soft and pliant for them. You wouldn’t have to work that job that hardly pays you anything, you could just rely on him, them, to take care of you. He really did think you are a good girlfriend, and the thought of this ending after a short month had him clutching you even tighter.

As you pet his head, each pat lulls you into comfort. Your eyes grow to feel low and heavy. Your breathing slows and slowly your mind isn’t racing,letting yourself melt into a solace you’ve been longing for.

Sleep.

When your eyes open you’re greeted with snowy white hair, not vanta black. And you’re placed in a different position then before, laying on your side with tickles of hair follicles on your nape. You attempt to get up to observe your surroundings but you’re prevented by a strong arm around your side.

You sigh and take in what you can from your spot. The sun had went down so it must be well into the night. How long did you sleep for? “Oh,you’re finally up. How’d you rest?” Your ears hear Gojo and you remember Geto saying he’d come over once he left. It was sweet of him not to wake you. “I slept really good..better than I have in a while.” Now that you’re aware your eyes take in Gojo and you realize he’s bare of a shirt, then your eyes scan lower and realize he’s bare of everything.

“Wait..why are you naked?” Your tone comes out accusatory, already scared of what could’ve happened in your sleep. Gojo pouts,”Why do you always think I’m the creepy one? I just wanted to have skin to skin contact with you.” Your brows furrow in confusion,”So you got naked cause I’m naked??” He nods with a dopey grin on his face,”Yup, I wanted to hold you like you were. Is that too crazy?”

Gojo was interesting to put it plainly but you didn’t mind that about him. So you shrug off the oddity and lean closer to his unclothed chest, learning questioning him would just lead to further curiosity and your newly awaken brain couldn’t handle that right now. “How long was I out for?” Gojo takes your face in his hand,cradling it,”Three hours or so, Sugu told me you were exhausted so I never thought of waking you up.”

You cuddle further into his chest, an action greatly welcomed by Gojo. He’d glad you’re not so shy around him anymore, you’re much more familiar now—your personality shining in a way he couldn’t see before. He liked you already when he saw you being all shy in the library but that was purely because you seemed like the perfect plaything for the bet. But now, he really does admire you. He genuinely likes spending his time with you, even cutting class to come hold you while you slept. He can’t put his finger on what changed in just a week, however he liked that he grew softer towards you.

Maybe he could talk to Suguru to see if the bet could be noid and null? He likes being your boyfriend, likes the way you pout and check on him when he’s being reckless, likes the way you giggle and snort at his jokes, likes the way you fluster and bend so easily for him, likes how much you genuinely care for him and Geto. It was consuming his heart, his brain, something about you was so addictive. And it was so hard to place because you’re so plain. There’s nothing inherently special or unique about you, yet he feels addicted to you.

It was wrong to take advantage of someone so drained of human connection but he’s glad he took the bet. He had to be,with the way you looked so thankful for him,snuggled into him at your most vulnerable. He caresses your face, speaking soft and low in a way he knows makes your heart jump, “How about I take you out tonight? You dress up real nice for me and we eat our hearts out.”

Your smile is the reaction he was looking for, bright and wide, the lines on the sides of your mouth being displayed proudly. “Really? But are you sure it’s not too late to go anywhere?” Gojo shakes his head,”Trust, it’s barely eight, and after all I can go anywhere no matter the time. So about you get your pretty self out the bed and get ready to go?”

The white haired man stands up, cock sitting arrogantly on his abdomen and he notices your eyes widen at this. “Don’t judge,you’re naked and you’re my girl. Can’t blame me for getting excited. Anddd you don’t even have to take care of this, just focus on getting ready and I’ll handle everything else.

And he wasn’t lying, he really did handle everything. Within thirty minutes he was groomed even handsomer, dawning a nice dress shirt that just oozed wealth, matched with pants and shoes that reflected the same exact thing. He had even helped you with your outfit, choosing a nice dress that accentuated your figure nicely, hugging all the nice curvy bits beautifully. He had reservations in an instant to some restaurant too fancy to pronounce the name of. The last thing he had to do was assist you with your shoes.

He slides the expensive shoe he had bought for you onto your foot with a care you didn’t knew he felt for you. With a kiss to your ankle he buckles the connecting loop,”You look so beautiful—you are beautiful.” You feel yourself heating up at his words. You felt like Cinderella, once a poor pauper who had no one, now a princess with two charming princes that seemed to really like her. “Thank you Toru.”

He smiles,”I like hearing that name from you. Now c’mon we already have reservations.” Walking out of your room, hand in hand, only to be halted by Shoko, cigarette in her hold. “Going somewhere?” She asks. You reply happily,”Toru’s going to take me to dinner, I promise I’ll be quiet when I come back in the dorm.” Shoko has a look on her face that’s unreadable to you, but not to Gojo, his eyes having a conversation with her.

You don’t get to ask what’s it about as Gojo sends you away,”Go to the car for me, I’ll be right there. I think Shoko wants to talk to me real quick.” You nod and say your goodbye to Shoko, being weirded out by her tight lipped smile as you left.

Gojo steps forward, strutting to the couch Shoko often finds herself on. “Why are you looking at me like that?” The man asks. “You know why Satoru, you’re playing with her.” He rolls his blue eyes,”I was…but I really like her now. I’m even thinking about calling off the bet.” She scoffs,”The fact you said thinking instead of going to is enough for me to tell you to fuck off. Look—I told Suguru the same thing when he left earlier, if you don’t stop flaunting her around like she’s this week’s best toy I’m going to tell her.”

“Why are you getting in our business now? You always say you don’t care about what we do as long as we don’t drag you into it so what’s new? You even helped us out way more than you should’ve—so you feelin guilty now?” Lighting her cigarette,she begins,”I do feel bad, yeah. I thought this would be a quick thing like it usually is for you two, but you’ve been around here for three weeks and the longer you pretend you care about her the more I know it’ll hurt once she finds out what you both are.”

Gojo could feel his jaw clench. “I’m not pretending shit. I do care for her and so does Suguru, you can’t tell us what we feel.” Shoko scoffs,”Oh I don’t, huh? I’ve known you since high school, I know how you both get bored. And I watched and stayed silent when you did that to others but with her..I can’t. Not when she tells me how happy she is, how nice it is to finally be able to experience romance. She deserves something real—not two immature boys doing this for a stupid fucking bet.” The man before her opens his mouth to speak but he’s quickly cut off with Shoko’s sharp words.

“And you’ve only fully gotten to know her for what? A week…maybe more? What happens after a week? Hmm? What happens after a couple months? What happens after a year? What happens when you’re done with her and throw her away like all of your other playthings? You’re not going to have to see her that way—I am. So think of that when you’re playing boyfriend and taking her out.” Gojo could feel his rage seep into his veins, his eyes growing wide and deranged.

“It’s true, I am used to throwing people away. I could have anyone and anything easily. But…she’s different, I’ve never felt so strongly about anyone in a really long time. Especially in such a short amount of time. So you don’t get to threaten me or Suguru when you don’t get the situation fully. Next time I want someone’s unsolicited opinion on what I’m doing, I’ll go to a therapist. Now if you excuse me—I have to take my girlfriend to dinner.”

Shoko can’t get another word in before the slam of the door is heard. Gojo’s angry footsteps were audible all the way down to the car. He opens the door looking flushed, his teeth clenched tautly and his brows furrowed together. You’re buckled up in the passengers seat looking lost as ever. “Did something happen between you and her?” Gojo slides in the drivers seat, clicking in his seat belt with a fake smile,”Yeah don’t worry about it though. It’s just a disagreement among friends.”

You were curious, undoubtedly so, but the crazed look in Gojo’s eyes told you now was not the time to pry. “Uhh okay..let’s just go then. I hope you’ll feel better after we eat.” When arriving at the restaurant Gojo is acting way calmer, he’s already cracking jokes again when he opens the door for you. The hostess doesn’t even have to ask where the both of you are seated once she sees Gojo’s once in a life time blue eyes.

It’s crazy to you how he was treated with such revere by so many people. So much so that they wouldn’t even ask who he was, they just could look and tell he was a Gojo. “Woah, do people do that to you often?” You ask, amazed. “Do what—ohh, well yeah pretty much. A perk and a curse of being born totally awesome.” You chuckle,”I think more of a curse, I’d hate for so many people to recognize me in public.”

Gojo pulls out your chair,”Not all of us could be made for the limelight sweetheart.” Sweetheart, the nickname made you feel nice inside. You take the seat, smiling at him in thanks. “I guess you’re right, but you and Suguru sure are. I saw you both modeling for our sports team—oh wait speaking of that, isn’t your game coming up soon?” Gojo answers with a smile,”Trust me modeling is not all that—there’s so many mean people and they’re always crabby. But actually my game is tomorrow so you have to wear that outfit I got you.”

The outfit appears in your mind, short skirt that almost has the bottom of your butt poking out, and frilly top to go along with it. You could not be caught dead wearing that in front of so many people. Gojo was barely doable for you. “ I can’t wear that, it doesn’t look good on me.” Gojo voices his confusion,”Why not? You look so sexy and cute in it. It’ll help me play better too. You rooting for the other side or something?”

“No, it’s just umm..I’m well,me. And you already know you’re going to win the game so don’t even try to use that as an excuse.” Gojo sighs,”Mmm,how about you wear it for me after the game? Let me see you do a couple tricks in it before I take it off you.” You heat up at the implication,”Gojo! Don’t say stuff like that we’re in public.” The man bellows a loud laugh,”You’re my girlfriend, what I can’t think about my celebratory plans? I haven’t even gotten into what me and Suguru have been planning to do to you tomorrow. And stop calling me Gojo, you were doing so well before, calling me Toru and everything.” He finishes off with a pout his magnetic eyes pouring into you.

“I’m sorry—Toru, but really don’t say stuff like that here. I swear people can hear you.” Gojo’s voice gets real low,”What if I want them to hear me? You look so pretty I have to let everybody know you’re being taken care of at home.” You bite your inner cheek, avoiding eye contact with him. Why’d he have to say things like that? Why’d he make you feel so unimaginably warm? He chuckles,”Alright I’ll quit, I can see you’re overheating over there. How about you focus on what’re you’re gonna get while I head to the bathroom real quick?”

He steps away from the table with his phone in hand, with a look on his face that didn’t mirror his cheery tone. “Promise I‘ll be back real soon. Get whatever you want and don’t even dare look at the price for anything.” With the thick menu in between your fingers you let out a confused,”Uhh..sure?”

Your eyes glance down to the many options available, ranging from finely cut pufferfish to A5 wagyu. And all options ended in zeros..you see why Gojo told you not to look at prices. This just serves as a reminder how far removed you are from his and Geto’s world. There’s been times this semester you couldn’t even afford a ramen from a convenience store and now here you are, reading a menu that has above hundreds of dollars food. He made you feel like Cinderella but the tale always ends with the clock striking twelve.

When would your time end? They like you now, they’re sweet and giving, and spoil you to the point you don’t want for nothing anymore—but it’s only been a week of dating. Eventually the novelty of dating someone like you would wear off, their opposite. The thoughts alone bring an ugly coil building up in your tummy.

You couldn’t think of it like that though, you just had to let yourself savor this, even if it’s temporary. It’s the life you yearned for as a little girl watching those corny romcoms, a knight in shining armor arriving to take you away from the horrors of the world. And you even have two. You may be a lonely girl dressed up for one night at the ball but you’d enjoy it with every fiber of your being.

Gojo arrives back to the table with an expression that looked more pleased compared to when he left. You chirp out,”Who’d you have to call?” The man smiles,”Sugu,I was asking if he’d be home before we came back from dinner.” That may be true but when he left to excuse himself there seemed to be something much more that needed to be addressed. You don’t comment on it, what he wants to tell you is his business. “Oh I’m not going to my dorm right away?”

“Nahhh, you’re staying the night with us and don’t worry, I bought all your favorite hygiene products already.” He said it so matter factly one could think he had asked you before but he hadn’t. They never really ask about what you want to do, they plan it and you just follow their orders. And how did Gojo know your favorite hygiene products? That would be normal for any longer term relationship but this is a very very very short term one so far. And this doesn’t just happens with hygiene products—favorite movies, favorite shows, favorite foods you have never mentioned, or even the specific manner you liked certain things.

It was like they studied you down to a T, and you’re still uninformed about so many of their likes and dislikes. It gave you a weird feeling..but part of you really enjoyed how much insight they had. Jokingly you comment,”What if I wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” Gojo replies with a cool smile on his lips,”Our bed is your bed. Whattt, you don’t wanna sleep with your boyfriends now?” He leans in real close,hand reaching over for yours,”You’re asking like you’ll say no to us.”

That hit deep,for some odd reason. You hadn’t really disagreed with them before, always obedient and easy going with whatever they had in store for you. It became so easy for you to do that, the inner fear of the their affection for you to be wafted away almost always dictates your response to them. And you know it’s because you’re so very lonesome. But despite knowing that you kid yourself,”Maybe I won’t say yes one of these days.” Gojo lights up,”You won’t,” his tone heavy and confident,the air in the room only lightening up when he adds,”I’m too handsome to say no to after all.”

You laugh and stop once your waiter arrives asking for the orders. You had no clue what you wanted, the prices on the menus distracting you from your budded appetite. The waiter looks at you first, expectantly, and your eyes go to Gojo, begging for his assistance. He gives you a reassuring nod and rubs comforting circles onto your pudgy knuckles,”We’ll get everything on the menu,”he swivels his head towards your direction,”don’t say anything. I’m already doing it.”

Your lips were already open to protest but they quickly shut. The waiter looks thrown off as well but he just bows dutifully and informs that he’ll be back with the food soon. As he leaves you can’t keep quiet anymore,”Satoru, you know we can’t eat all that! And think about how much money you’re wasting.” Gojo scoffs, he has more money than he’ll ever need in his lifetime, he could purchase several countries and still not have a big dent in his net worth. How cute that you were worried about that.

“Relaxxxx babe, you seemed like you couldn’t decide so I wanted to make it easier for you.” He adjusts to his chair to be right next to you, the across position not cutting it for him anymore. “C’mon don’t be pouty with me, I just like taking care of anything you could possibly want.” And take care of you he did, the moment the food arrived Satoru began shoveling decadent meals down your throat—voice soft and cooing, his hand ready to wipe any food that smudged on your pudgy little cheek.

He hardly fed himself, his hands only being there to act as your own, the extremities gently slapping away your determined paws, defending himself by stating,”I’m your boyfriend, I should take care of you like this.” Boyfriend or caretaker—you couldn’t tell anymore. With him acting this way it was beginning to muddle the line of caring or overbearing. The more he began to rid you of your independence the harder it was to differ if this was normal.

And you rationalized his behavior, thinking that it’s because you’ve never had a relationship, this had to be normal, otherwise he wouldn’t do this so openly. He just cares for you. He only stops feeding you when your eyes sag low, posture poor , and your jaw too tired of chewing. “If I eat anymore I’m literally going to explode.” Gojo hums, satisfied with himself,” That means I fed you enough then.” You side eye him,lips pursing,”You fed me too much, that’s what you did. I don’t think I’ll be hungry for days.” He shakes his head,” Don’t be dramatic, I was just making sure you won’t go hungry. Plus you look so cute with your mouth full.”

You roll your eyes,”Remind me to never go out to eat with you again. You’re gonna kill me.” He shushes you,”I would never even dream of hurting you.” It felt odd coming from his lips considering the fact this whole thing happened with the intention of hurting you, but he was past that now. You weren’t just a bet now, you were his girlfriend, his object of affection, his world. The bet was just a vehicle of fate that lead him to you. You already meant so much to both him and Geto. Perhaps it’s the fault of stalking you, as a way of finding a perfect way to trap you into their plan, but he never thought he’d find himself entrapped by you instead. He wondered if it was too soon to say I love you. He could wait a little longer, maybe two months after this and pretend this feeling didn’t develop so quickly.

“You look so sleepy, I’ll tell them to box up our food and I’ll take you to the car.” He motions for the waiter and mutters some words you’re too incoherent to hear. The fullness dwelling in your tummy had you craving a longggg nap and a nice warm bath. Gojo sits up, pulls you onto your feet, rubbing your shoulders with soft murmurs. He practically carried you all the way to the car, buckling you in with a kiss to your forehead. He disappears shortly after that, only to reappear with a bunch of bags full of uneaten food that get placed in the back seat.

He drives the car extra careful, nice and smooth to not disturb your slowly dozing off state. And he keeps it that way the whole time until he arrives to his house. You hear the shutting down of the ignition, turning to him with low eyes,”We’re here?” He hums,”Mhm but wait here, don’t get up til I come back.” You watch him stalk off, cuddling into the seat to ease the utter satiety you feel jumble around in your stomach.

He returns with company, the second persons long hair cascading down his bare back. Geto opens the car door, greeting you with a kind smile,”I missed you.” It’s pleasant and warming, so much so your own smile etches onto you. He unbuckles your seat belt for you and takes you into his arms, fully carrying you for the second time today. You’re too tired to protest so you let him carry you all the way into the house, Gojo following along with the bags in hand.

You expected Geto to drop you off on a bed, something bouncy and easy to melt into. Instead of feeling that you come into contact with the cool granite of a bathroom counter. Your brows furrow in confusion,”What’s going on?” Geto replies,”We’re gonna give you a nice bath.” With that he begins peeling off your layers, taking his time, kissing and lightly on your body. Gojo enters the bathroom next, working on your face, taking off any enhancements you added to your appearance tonight.

You’re now fully naked, with nowhere to hide from their awaiting eyes. You’re walked to an already filled tub, the steam wafting your body. The aroma smelt of lavender and sandalwood. Geto guides you in, placing you in the middle of the giant basin, he then follows suite, positioning himself at the head. Gojo then hops in next, a sigh fleeing from him once he feels the muscle relaxing heat of the water.

You’re sandwiched between them, trapped by one’s chiseled chest and the other’s leaned on your rolled adorned back. Geto speaks first,”How was your dinner?” His question is paired with soft caresses on your plump arm, eyes riddled with tenderness. “It was so good, everything tasted so rich and yummy but Toru was trying to feed me like I wouldn’t see a meal again.” Geto bellows a guffaw, his canines shining under the reflective light. “Is that right Toru?”

Gojo quickly chimes in to defend himself,”It’s only because you’re so cute. I told you.” Gojo pouts against your back, slouching forward on your spine, lips ghosting on the upper column of it. His lips are only a few millimeters from connecting and the thought alone has you shivering in the warm water. “I’ll have to agree with him here, you are so cute. Why don’t you come closer?” He had asked you to move but the verbiage was useless once he yanks you snug on his pecs. Gojo also makes himself real comfortable on you, his chest now flush on your rear.

Flustered you say,”Thank you.” Geto places a chaste kiss on your brow bone, huffing into the skin with contentment. The man behind you mirrors the action on the back of your ear, sloppy and noisy. Speechlessly the begin bathing you, lathering your favorite scents, pampering you with thoughtful exfoliation, massaging your taut flesh with honeyed praise that makes you weak.

Gojo hands rest on your pudgy tummy, kneading it with a sense of worship,”You’re so perfect like this.” His words are brushed on the slope that connects your neck and shoulders. He continues, paws moving to pinch a roll on your waist,”So pretty and good for us.” Finished with a delicate kiss to the temple.

Geto in front of you peppers your cheeks with dozen of pecks, both his hands cupping the fullness with revere. A peck to the nose comes with,”You’re so so precious. Such a good girlfriend, just let me and Toru take care of you. You never have to worry about a single thing for the rest of your life.” And it feels so good to be told that. So lovely, to hear that you can just melt into them, depend on someone else for a change.

They continues their mantras, velvety and musical to your ears. Their words last all the way up until you’re taken out of the tub, then dressed in one of Gojo’s shirts that barely covered anything. It’s like heaven, their soft touches and sweet words, each step towards the bed feels like fluffy clouds beneath your bare feet.

And at last you land on something bouncy, something you could find complete comfort in. You’re the only one laying down on the mattress, the two men taking position on your right and left, looking down at you with such affection it makes you want to hide. The get on the bed, each holding half of your body gently, speaking to you til your eyes grew heavy again and your speech became incoherent.

And the last audible sentence you could make out is,”You’re gonna love it here.” Odd but slumber seemed more appealing than being inquisitive. With you now nursed to sleep the two men gave each other a gaze that meant action would soon be taken.

One

Hundred

Percent.

It was no shock when Gojo scored the most points during the game today. He’s a star after all, in every regard. With every basket made in he’d search for you in the audience and blow a kiss you know was meant solely for you.

“Woahhh! You did so great Satoru! I’ve never seen such a knockout game before.” Your praise meets eager ears,”I told you I’d win,surprised I didn’t mess up cause I didn’t see you wearing that cute little outfit I bought you.” You shake your head,”You told me I could wear it after.” He smiles proud,”That’s rightttt, once we leave this party you better not get shy on me now. I worked real hard to see you in it. Suguru’s lucky he gets to see it too, even though he doesn’t deserve to. I really am so generous.” Gojo turns to Geto expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

“I’m not going to thank you. So stop looking at me like that.” Geto says. Gojo huffs,”Geez, everyone’s so ungrateful these days. Except you,little cutie.” You feel Gojo place a wet smooch on your cheek, causing a giggle to flee you. Geto smiles softly at the interaction though it quickly drops when he sees something…or someone in the crowd. You observe this and hurriedly ask,”Are you alright Suguru?” Your hand reaches for his forearm, clasping it with concern.

His focus isn’t on you as he replies,”Yeah, yeah..I just need to talk to someone real quick. Satoru, stay with her, it’s a big party and I don’t want her getting lost.” The pair share a look, one that oozed abundant worry. “Gotcha, you already know I’ll keep our girl safe.” Gojo pulls you in real close, his hand essentially glued in the groove of your love handles. Despite his nonchalant answer his actions spoke more truth than his words. His hold on you is protective, almost like he’d lose you this very second if he held you any different.

It was a fun day prior to this. Gojo had just won a season changing game, and you’re at a big celebration for the basketball team’s fantastic win with your boyfriends that seemingly can’t get enough of you. However, the amusement was no longer so prevalent. Gojo’s demeanor is no longer fun and lighthearted, he’s stiff and prepared as if he’s expecting to get away from the party he had to beg you to come to. It was clear that whoever that person they both saw was a threat to something they truly cared about.

You know if you ask if he’s okay, there would be no honesty replied. So you just stay attached to Gojo, rubbing calming circles on his back. You don’t know how long you stand in silence with him, the blaring music and other people’s joy being heard. You’re thankful when you see a familiar face walk up to you, Shoko with a beer held tightly in her hand. “Shoko, I didn’t know you’d come here!” Your excitement is met with lack there of. Shoko’s face is deadpan and void of emotion,”You didn’t come to the dorm last night. I had texted you, I was really worried this weirdo was up to no good.” The last comment has Gojo digging into the pudgy skin harder.

You fluster, thinking of their intimate treatment last night,”Uhh..yeah I’m sorry. I stayed at Sugu’s and Satoru’s place yesterday. I was so tired I didn’t even think about going back home.” She hums in response,”I figured—Say, has Satoru here told you that they had visited m—“ Gojo’s voice interrupts Shoko,”I hadn’t really thought it was important, I’ll tell her as soon as you leave.” His voice is low and full with authority. Shoko replies,”I don’t want to leave though. I think you should tell her in front of me.” Shoko and Gojo have a stare off that has you wondering just how severe things were.

“What is she talking about Toru?” Your voice is littered with confusion but your eyes peer at Gojo with trust. Shoko pipes up,”Yeah? What am I talkin about Satoru—there’s a lotttt you still have to tell her.” Gojos hold on you is almost bruising now, a sign that whatever it is, it’s nothing he wants you to know.

“Baby..,”he begins, gentle and trying to find the right thing to say,”I do have a lot to tell you,we do. But I’m not going to tell you here, I’ll get Suguru so we could all talk this out. And you—,” he turns his attention to Shoko, tone now filled with harshness,”Stay out of my business. It’s not your place to tell her things.” Shoko scoffs,”It is my place when you’re trying to change my living arrangements and don’t play that knight in shining armor bs in front of her. You’re gonna make me sick.”

The anxiety buds deep in your body. The nervous sweats, the ringing in your ears, Gojo’s and Shoko’s face becoming less clear. What exactly don’t you know? Is that why Geto walked off like that? You feel your breathing become uneasy something they both quickly pick up on. Gojo is already cooing at you,embracing you against his chest. And Shoko is rubbing your back with regret mixed in with her once motionless features.

“See what you did? You shouldn’t have talked about that in front of her!” Gojo’s volume is light, trying not to spook your already panicking state, but his tone was like hot venom slowly injecting the poison into Shoko’s ears. “As your friend I’m trying to tell you to stop this, it’s not healthy. For you or her. I didn’t mean to make her feel this way.” Gojo scoffs,”Cut the shit. You’re trying to threaten me, if you did care you would’ve discussed this with me privately.”

Shoko scrunches her nose in anger, her rested lips now contorted in a scowl,”Then I’ll talk to you privately now,”she directs her attention towards your quivering form,”We’ll be right back,promise.” She gives Gojo a glance that can be seen as,”Come with me now or I spill.” Gojo looks torn, his brain trying to pick his battles, on one hand he’ll stay with you and you’ll hear what they’ve been up to this whole time, on the other hand he’d leave you here as a nervous wreck, clinging to the wall, and you wouldn’t have a clue about what’s been going on until you hear it from their lips. Gojo thinks of damage control and decides he could make up for leaving you a for a few minutes easy, versus the much more daunting alternative.

Reluctantly Gojo releases his hold,eyes looking sad. “I’ll be right back, if I’m not in three minutes go look for Suguru. Otherwise, just stay here and wait up, okay?” You don’t agree to his directions instead you go to cling to him for his comfort once more but he’s unreachable now. “Please, I have to talk to Shoko.” He looks hurt to leave you this way even if it was temporary, you were beginning to freak out.

He walks off, looking pissed as ever, his eyes emotionlessly on Shoko. And you wait there,still fighting the nervousness brewing. You didn’t want to think about the possibilities of what this could mean for you. Even with the vagueness it’s apparent that this directly had to deal with you. You haven’t known the two men long but their place they have in your life already meant a great deal to you.

The thought of it already slipping between your fingers was nauseating. You could feel the difficulty of swallowing grow harder and harder, your throat becoming taut and voiceless. You were beginning to panic. The lights. The voices of party goers. The blaring music that feels like it’s digging its way into your brain. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You weren’t going to wait for Gojo or look for Geto, you had to get out of here. The promise of fresh air and quiet was like a mind numbing seductress, making you become careless as you hurriedly weave through the crowd. Each step felt way too hard, each one you had to think about instead of just doing. They quicken once you see the door of the front porch, you reach and open it with a big exhale.

But you wished for isolation, and unfortunately a familiar long haired man is conversing with another that has frosted blonde tips. You go to call out for him in relief, however you can’t bring yourself to once you hear him say your name. Now that you’re analyzing the situation Geto looks so tense, his handsome features contorted in pinched brows and a teethy grimace.

You weren’t planning on listening…you really weren’t, the conversation was so compelling though.

“I told you it’s off. I called you yesterday. So don’t even think you can threaten me.” Geto’s voice comes out low and serious.

The other man doesn’t seemed affected by the statement, instead he scoffs with a shrug, smug look on his face. “You shouldn’t have made a bet then. If you were gonna turn soft for some pussy-oh wait I forgot you cucks haven’t even hit it yet. I give her more credit for that, lonely bitch like that and I thought she’d be drooling all over you.”

Geto’s fist clench and it looks like it’s taking everything in him to not sucker punch the man. “Don’t talk about her like that, that’s my girl. And the bets off, like I said. So what she wants to do with her body isn’t a game anymore.” A loud boisterous laugh echoes out in the night, the man before him doubles over in genuine amusement.

“You can’t be serious! Oh my god you really are! You’ve only known the bitch for not even a full month and you’re this wound up about her?! Oh goddd..her pussy must look real good for you to be this whipped. You know I really thought I was going to lose this,her being pathetic and all, but I know I can’t now. You’re crazy over a bitch that hasn’t even put out yet—you know too, Shoko’s told some people about you both going to her dorm yesterday, telling her she won’t need her roommate anymore.” The man’s words are cruel and dripping with a smugness you’ve never thought possible.

Geto stalks closer,”You’re not winning anything. I will ruin your life if you dare meddle in mine or Satoru’s life. You won’t even be future head of your clan anymore—so I’d shut up if I were you. So what’re going you to say now? Still not off for you?” The once cocky man cowers before Geto’s taller frame, his smirk faltering a little bit. Until his eyes catch sight on you. And his next words hit Geto like a bullet,”I don’t have to meddle in anything. You did it to yourself.”

Geto follows Noaya’s line of sight and his eyes become wide. There you are, tears brimming down, shaky, and slowly backing away from the door. You’re speechless. And beyond hurt. You should’ve listen to your gut. People like you don’t live in Geto’s or Gojo’s worlds. It was impossible.

You were only a game to them. A sick way of passing the time for them. You weren’t actually liked or loved, despite what their actions did to your heart, making you so attached so this would hurt even more. You’re so stupid to believe you had something good, something real. You shouldn’t known this wasn’t organic, their pushiness in your life spelt that out for you, big and clear.

But you chose to trust. You chose to believe you were really wanted in such a way you’ve always craved. So you let them touch you, let them say their sweet lies, let them into your isolated life. And it was your fault.

You wanted to yell and shout at Geto, curse him with all viscousness you held in your body. But you’re humiliated above being angry. The same way you were in high school when popular boys would ask out the undesirable friendless nobody. Geto calls for you, reaching for you as he gets nearer to your quivering frame. But despite proximity he seems so far away.

He doesn’t even touch you before you take off, running in the sea of moving bodies. The noises you found overwhelming before were like an escape for the sobs you’re holding back. The few you people you had closet in your life betrayed you—Shoko, Geto, and Gojo. As much as you craving crying in your room the promise of Shoko arriving at the dorm made you woozy. She knew, and she didn’t tell you. Didn’t save you from the pain you feel now.

You were done. There would be no more trusting people for a good awhile. Because the clock just officially struck twelve and now you’re back to what your life used to be. Lonely, pathetic, and uneventful. You’d prefer that because at least it’s true. You make it out the front door, shakily grabbing your phone you order an uber. 2 minutes til its arrival. And you pray and hope none of them find you in that time frame.

You block Geto and Gojo without hesitation. It’s not like they would care, you were just a game to them. You weren’t a real girlfriend. You were worth a bet. That’s it. Now free from the view of people you release your cries into the night. Ugly cries whooshing away into the midnight breeze. You could feel snot drip out of your nose and your lips formed in a jutted pout.

You hear hollers of your name become less distant which already has you tenser. They get nearer and nearer, but so does your uber pulling up in the driveway. A chariot perfect for your escape. Hurriedly you hop in the car, hoping you could depart before they could see you breaking down. Unfortunately you weren’t quick enough. A determined hand stopping the door from shutting completely. Through teary eyes you see snowy white hair.

“Baby..get out the car. Let’s talk this out.” Gojo’s voice is laced with need, his eyes blown wide and erratic. He looks..wild. And it scared you. “No! Leave me alone! I don’t ever wanna see you again! You humiliated me for the last time!” You kick at Gojo, attempting to loosen his grip on he door. He easily catches your leg, his hands embracing your calf with an iron hold.

“It’s not like that, I promise. I—We really do care about you. So just come out and we’ll go home and make this all better.” Your voice comes out shaky,”Oh the home you tried to force me into? You tried to get me out of my dorm last night! And you tricked me! Being all sweet to me, for what?! To brag about the total loser being wrapped around your finger?! No! I’m not gonna be naive anymore!” You pull your leg back with all your might, yet it still isn’t enough for Gojo to let go.

So, you resort to something crazy. You turn to the driver who’s watching the interaction in silence,”Drive!” The driver looks worried,”Are you sure? He’s hanging on the door.” You look at Gojo who’s beginning to tear up as well,”Baby don’t do this..please just let us talk to you,”he pauses, eyes closing as he says,”I love you.”

And that was what made your decision easier. You were worried about the impact of falling off from a moving car but if he wanted to try to manipulate some more that’s what he deserved. “I’m tired of your lies,”turning to driver you complete the sentence,”Drive.” Hearing your confidence the driver steps on the pedal, beginning motion.

Gojo’s grip loosens on your calf and he’s already running to keep up with the car. “Baby, no—“ The car speeds up and eventually Gojo can’t keep pace any longer. He releases you at last but it’s not a smooth landing for him. Before you close the door that’s no longer being held you see Gojo face down on the asphalt, looking akin to a pancake. You almost think about if he’s okay—almost. The empathy fading once you remember the ache in your heart.

You bring your hands to your face, covering the messiness of your despair.

And the whole way to your dorm you stayed that way.

PHASE 3-GET THE GIRL

It had been a month and a half since the incident happened.

And life has been hell. Utter hell. Suddenly you were failing all your classes no matter how hard you studied, you got fired from your job without reason and haven’t been able to get another one, the librarian says you aren’t welcome anymore, now officially banned for being a “disruption.”And to make matters worse nobody would talk to you—not even Shoko. Before you were invisible and that’s why nobody really spoke to you,presently it’s a whole different reason. Whispers of you would be said about you during lectures, mean looks and moving of seats once you came too close. You were full on being treated like a pariah.

You thought life would get better once Geto and Gojo left you alone but it got way worse the more you rejected them. The first couple weeks you’d have extravagant gifts on your doorstep, love notes pasted onto your windows, and all throughout this you and Shoko were not even on speaking terms. After it became silent from them things became worse than ever.

You don’t know exactly how or when, but you have a good feeling on what could be the cause. This was because of your lack of interaction with the pair and you knew it. It was a mystery how they were able to execute everything but unfortunately it was working.

Quickly the lack of basic social interactions were becoming much too hard to handle. You craved at least having the choice of talking to people but that wasn’t even an option anymore. You were a nuisance and treated as such. The only people you knew would accept you with open arms and more were the reason for your suffering. It wasn’t an option, no matter how bad you felt about your life.

Which brings you here in the deans office, discussing your removal from the university. If you weren’t going to be treated right here you’ll just move. You barely had the money to do it but you would anyway. “I’m aware about your situation and I know it’s really hard to stay when you’re going through that, however I really want you to think about what this will do to your future.” His voice is professional to the core, lacking any form of comfort.

“I know..and I don’t care. I just can’t stay here anymore.” You reply. “Yes…I can see that..” the comment hit deep because you knew it was about your physical appearance. You had let depression get the best of you and it showed apparently. You were wearing clothes that you’ve had on for two days, unbathed, the clothes had various snack stains on them that you couldn’t be bothered to clean up, and your skin looked dull and lifeless. You definitely looked like you were put through the wringer.

“I’ll tell you what,come back in two days and see if you feel the same way.” The deans tone was dismissive, uncaring of your pleads. Probably because he’s somehow in their pockets as well. They’re inescapable. And you felt like eventually you’ll land right back in the palm of their hand. Frowning, you get up from the chair, wordless. You don’t bid a goodbye as you leave. There was no point.

You hate that you knew you were being played with. And you hate that it was starting to work. The more isolated you felt the more you were thinking about being back in their arms, being taken care of. The idea of going back to them seemed so appealing, so much better than being even more lonesome. They loved you, right? It couldn’t be so bad. But those thoughts were always interrupted with logic, what they’re doing isn’t right nor healthy. They’re borderline stalking you and ruining your life. They shouldn’t be rewarded with your submission.

They got to fool you once and you’d make sure they wouldn’t be able to do it twice. When you arrive to your dorm, Shoko’s sitting on the couch but she’s not alone like usual. On either side of her, there’s two men. Two men you wish hadn’t seen ever again. Your first instinct is to walk back out and leave. However, Gojo’s already up before you could even think about moving. He’s consuming your personal space in every way, his arms wrapped around your wide waist with immense strength. And he huffs in deep, almost like he’s sniffing you. “ I missed you so much baby! It’s been so hard to see you when you keep running away from us.” Almost like no time has passed at all. Like he’s been in love with you since the moment he’s laid eyes on you, not playing a cruel joke on you.

You try to push him off but he’s unmoving,”Get off me! Don’t act like you actually care about me! I’m not falling for that again!” Geto speaks for the both of them, now standing next to you and caressing your chubby cheek,”We do care about you, so much you wouldn’t even know. If you let us explain at the party we wouldn’t have to play this silly game with you.”

Shoko arises from the couch, looking less guilty than she has when she looks at you. “I thought they weren’t serious either, but they do really like you. I should’ve told you what they were doing but you make them so happy. And I understand that now, I hope you do too. I’ll let you reunite privately.” After saying her two cents Shoko leaves the dorm, giving you a faint smile as you looked at her with wide eyes.

Gojo places a wet kiss on your cheek,”Now that we’re alone let’s talk like an adults, yeah?” He finally lets you go, but only when Geto is standing in front of the door. Gojo herds you over to the couch, arm on your lower back with quiet dominance.

You expected to settle down on the cushions, instead the man places you onto his lap, arms wrapping around your pudgy tummy. You wiggle a bit but it doesn’t last for long once you realize he’s much too strong to even fight. So you became lax, frowning as you do so. Geto sits next to you, hands reaching for your thighs. You felt so angry you could cry. Why bother you? Why do this if you were just stupid bet? Why not leave you alone?

“You can ask about anything and we’ll answer you honestly. We won’t lie to you, just talk to us.” Geto voice rings out. The first thing to pop in your head is,”Have you been causing everything?” Despite the promises of honesty you weren’t expecting to hear,”Yes we have.” It floored you. You had expected their faults to be blamed on anyone else. It angered you, but also it made you feel slightly better. “Why? Why not just leave me alone?”

Gojo pipes up behind you, nosing your nape,”You’re asking silly questions. But if it’s not obvious..it’s because we love you. So so much, you can’t leave us again.” He feels you stiffen against him,brows pinched,”But…you don’t even know me that well. We were further part longer than when we started dating. I..just can’t believe that. Especially with what you what you guys did.” Tears are teasing your lash line, to which Geto’s comforting hand darts out, rubbing the apples of your cheeks with a tenderness that has your body swooning.

“We know everything about you. We know what you like to do late at night in the privacy of your room , we know that you wanted love and here it is, sitting right here even though you ran away from us. We could get to know all of you when we’re in a relationship. You just need to stop fighting us.” Geto’s voice is so alluring you’re almost convinced. Pulling your face away from him you say,”I can’t trust you again. You hurt me the worst way possible. I was a joke to both of you. And you weren’t even betting money on me. Is that how little I’m worth?”

Geto’s brows pinch like he’s distressed you feel that way, eyes looking kind as ever. “You’re worth so much more. More than words could ever say. We were naive to your nature before. But once we got to know you it was wraps for us, I promise. The bet was a forgetful thing for us once you became ours.” Ours. The word made you regrettably warm a bit.

It made you feel wanted despite the weeks of unwanted you felt by their hand. It was their fault. But with Gojo placing gentle kisses on your neck and Geto rubbing your thighs with reverence it was hard not to be influenced by their charm.

And their honeyed words. Words that made you feel the best you have in awhile. You were folding and it’s only a matter of time before you’re under them again. A shame, you really wanted to hold out. You wanted this to be the last time they saw you. But you forgot how good they make you feel. How much you matter when you’re with them. No one else has ever been that fond toward you. It’d probably be only them for the rest of your life. And you had a lot of left life to go.

Gojo hum against your skin,”Listen to us. Let us take care of you again. We’re all you need. Don’t think about our past actions, thinking about now. Feel how much we want our pretty little girl back.” That’s when you feel it. Their want. Gojo’s hardened erection throbbing against the plushness of your ass. If they were truly sorry they wouldn’t apologize with their body, with mind numbing pleasure, yet, you’re melting into Gojo’s signs of affections. Perhaps you are as desperate and pathetic as they initially thought, but the promise of care you’ve been longing greatly outweighed your grudge.

Soft whimpers falling from you with every harsh nip on your skin. And that’s when you knew you’d be under them tonight. For the rest of your mortal life you wouldn’t be allowed to leave them. And that’s okay with you. It’s easy to agree when they so carefully peel your clothing off, carrying you to your bedroom with excitement on their irritatingly beautiful mugs.

When you’re placed on your bed, bare and vulnerable compared to their still clothed forms. It was invigorating, feeling the smallest you ever have in your life under their gazes. You never felt small ever—but like this, with them closing in on you like hungry predators starved for the whole winter it was impossible not to.

You no longer care about your unbathed body, or your hairy limbs and cunt. This was raw. Real, something you craved since you found out about their lie. And now you knew their feelings weren’t untrue.

So you reach for Gojo and Geto, pulling them close to your maw. “Show me, show me how much you missed me.” It’s a soft whisper, but that’s all it needed to be for them to take action. Gojo moves first, lips enveloping yours with a fervor you’ve never seen before. His hands wrap all over your softest parts, big hand gripping the pouch of fat on your tummy, rubbing it between the pads of his fingers with dedication.

Geto moves down, suckling on one your nipples and tweaking the other, looking up at you with his honey brown eyes. Like a panther, seducing its prey. He nips at the tip of the peak, then kisses it to ease the burning sensation. He repeats this over and over til he can hear your pretty sounds slipping out from the connection you’re in with his counterpart.

Your back arches, an attempt at furthering the contact with his mouth. Greedy chest, shoving your touch deprived breasts into his mouth.

And he takes it in wholeheartedly. His hand kneads your breast with a touch that’s just enough to have your toes begin to curl. The other is almost all the way in his mouth, suctioning his maw off and on, caressing the tender tissue with care. Gojo pulls away from the kiss, blue eyes hooded and low now. “Tell me, does that feel good?” You moan aloud, brows furrowing in pleasure,”Y-Yes Toru, feels so good!” He grins wide,”Hear that Sugu? You’re making our girl feel so good. Hmm, how about I make you feel better?”

Immediately you feel your head bob, impatient for more lustful gratification. He slithers down to your parted legs, kissing your inner thigh once he’s below. “Ever been ate out before?” Gojo knew the answer, however he just liked to see you get embarrassed. “N-No ahh never.” He has your doughy thighs trapped in his grasp, giant paws surrounding them with unbeatable strength. “You’re gonna love it, I’ll make this pussy feel so good you won’t even be able to speak.” With that he spits a long line of saliva down your pussy, pointer finger rubbing in the spit on your slit. The cool sensation has you arching further into Geto’s mouth. He suckles harder on your boob, eyes watching how you’re already falling apart.

Gojo blows cool air on your wet clit,then rubs it in a circular motion with his thumb. Grinning wide and proud when he can see your pussy winking for him. He takes a big lap all the way down your slit, tongue creeping in the throbbing hole. Flicking up real good, up and down combing his tongue on your ooey goey walls.

Geto releases your breast from his mouth, smile on his face once he sees the big love mark on the flesh. He places a kiss on your cheek, hand rubbing on your plump tummy, greedily watching you wriggle and squirm. “Look at you,a few licks on your cunt and you’re already falling apart. So cute, but don’t think we forgive you for leaving us so easily. You’re going to be punished right now and you’re going to take it,okay?”

His words were understandable but Gojo’s constant attention on your mound had you not comprehending the weight of what was said. He pinches your pudge,”Be good and reply baby.” Geto reminds. Gojo positions his nose upwards, rubbing the tip of it against your throbbing clit, tongue moving in a semi circle in the warmth. His blue eyes barely peek out from behind your tummy, seemingly getting amused by the promise of Geto’s words.

“O-Okay!!” It’s a loud yelp, a conformation to something you don’t know fully. A conformation, nonetheless. Suddenly a red hot sting is felt on your left boob, the impact already causing a blooming mark. Your eyes tear up and you look at Geto confused, lips wobbly and kiss bitten. “Don’t look at me that way, I told you.” With that another slap on the same spot, then another and another til it’s a constant fast flurry. And it doesn’t stop. You’re reeling away from him, trapped by Gojo’s possessive hold on your lower body.

To add to the sensation Gojo takes his tongue out from your hole, maw now favoring to latch on your clit. Two fingers replace the pink muscle, scissoring you open with his big digits. Geto doesn’t stop slapping your boob, cooing at you tauntingly. “It’s okay, it won’t be long til I’m done with this side. Shhh, it could be much worse baby. You really hurt our feelings, you know?” He lands a hit that hurt more than the rest, a blooming staticky feeling growing on the skin.

You begin crying, moans and whimpers slipping from you. And your eyes peering at him pleadingly, lips quivering barely able to get the syllables of his name out. This softens Geto quickly, his prideful mask faltering, and the impacts halt. “Poor baby, if you tell me how sorry you are I’ll stop. And you have to promise not to leave us again. “

You muster the promise with haste, whimpers of pleasure following too when Gojo gives your warmth a particularly strong lick,”I promise not to leave again, e-ever. M’ so sorry, won’t happen again.”

Geto is true to his word, his hand now palming the poor former target of his frustration.”Good, you make me too soft anyway. Your cute little face is enough to convince me you’re sorry.” He places a kiss on your collarbone, lips pulling gently,”How about I join Satoru down below hmm?” His words are lost on you, whimpers and whines only being the replies he hears.

Geto soon is laid flat on his stomach, handsome face now mushed next to Gojo’s which is met with protest. “You’re blocking my view Sugu.” His mouth now free from puckering your clit. “Learn to share, we both can fit.” The black haired man prevents a smile from blooming on his face, finding his own foreshadowing beyond amusing. Gojo huffs with a roll of his eyes but still conforms to the new position, head lowering down to your pulsing cavity, eating up the way it swallows his fingers before he pulls them out.

He makes the absence up with his tongue again, the peak of the muscle exploring your orifice. Then it feels wider, like it’s stretching you further than it had prior. It’s no longer lone. A second slimy thrusting tongue joins the effort. Both attempt to reach the spongiest spot, pressing on gently with a pressure that has you calling out both names. Your thighs try to shut on them, body jerking away, heels kicking on the sheets of the mattress.

Your palms push on their stubborn heads, digits gripping their contrasting colored locks. “T-Too much! Please!” It’s like you didn’t say anything at all. Their greedy maws press further, until you can feel their chins lain flat on the cusp of your ass cheeks, and their noses molded into your folds, huffing the natural scent, like it’s the very oxygen they need to live.

Despite your tummy covering their eyes from your teary view, you know exactly how they’re peering at you. Predatory eyes enjoying the way you’re unraveling, squinting with glee the more and more you plead. The more you attempt to move away, trying to pull your cunt away from their gluttonous taste buds. It’s fruitless, impossible to escape from. No matter how much you flail and beg with broken moans.

You were egging their efforts on. Each time you protested you’re met with two harsh flicks, brushing against that special place. Eyes shutting with a euphoric rush, bitten lips beginning to bleed with your harsh bite. Then a stinging feeling, right at the summit of your hardened little bud, a reminder that moving away won’t only get more flicks if you keep running. But you’re beginning to grow brainless, there were no consequences right now in your head, only the sensation of their tongues seemingly eating you whole.

It was too much. Soon with the persistent stimulation you felt the summit of your gratification arriving. The punishing hand now rubs on your clit, in slow torturous circles that have you leaning your hips further. Back arched in an almost perfect bridge, nose crinkling, brows furrowed, calls of gibberish coming out. “Oh my godddd!” Then the rush of pleasure stops and so does their determined tongues. With your essence on their chins grinning wide and proud, pleased by your confused expression.

“W-Why’d you stop?” Your voice is hoarse and faint. Geto speaks,”You’re just so cute when you look confused. And I want you to cum sitting on me.” With that he lays on his back, body next to yours,his hand pulling you up on his chest, slick adding a sheen onto his shirt. You feel protests budding on your tongue,yet they don’t even come out. Gojo now placed behind you, lifts your hips up effortlessly setting you onto Geto’s lower half of his face. With Gojo creeped behind you,breath fanning on your nape, soft words coming from him,”Don’t be shy. You already belong to us.”

Geto wastes no time to proceed where he left off, tongue tracing all the expanse of your slit,the muscle almost kissing your other hole. You arch back onto Gojo’s chest,neck resting on his clothed chest. “Mhm,just like that. Fuck yourself dumb on Sugu’s face.”

Gojo’s hands wanders down to your supple hips, massaging the plushness with praise. “You sound so good..fuck baby.” You feel Gojo’s cock rubbing on your bare ass, the cotton of his shorts doing no good to stop the pre cum flowing from his tip.

Geto’s paws start digging into the plush of your cheeks, dull nails delving in the flush. His groans vibrate against your mound, hungry and desperate for the taste of you, even going as far as grinding his nose against you. “You taste so good too, wanna taste baby?” Gojo turns your face towards him, swallowing your lips whole, groaning as he humps against your ass. He spits in your mouth, placing your essence back into you. Pretty white lashes kiss the apples of your cheeks, closed tight at the contact.

He pulls away, looking at you pleased. “Tell me how good you taste.” He rubs on your ass harder, hands pacing your back and forth on his length as well as Geto’s face. The man’s face below you looking blissful, eyes closed in serenity, hungry tongue sneaking into your hole.

“I t-taste good!” Gojo squeezes your hips harder,”That’s right, you taste so fucking good. That’s why he’s eating it like this. Best pussy ever. The fattest,”a harsh thrust on your ass,”juiciest,”another gyration,”prettiest cunt ever.” Gojo groans on your neck, resting his head on the slope of your shoulders.

He pulls you taut, rubbing his dick on the crack of your ass. Geto swirls his tongue alllll around your hole, a keen fleeing from you already. The feeling of gratification grows once more and this time it’s not interrupted. Your moans become louder and louder until a milky white decorate Geto’s maw which is still moving despite your arrival. You’re whining and begging for him to stop, looking at Gojo for assistance but he only encourages Geto more.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Just let him taste you baby.” He’s cooing on your flesh, still grinding your lower body onto his length. “T-Toruuu please, n-no more! Make him stop!” He shushes you,”We have to get you nice and prepared to take one of us baby.” You don’t know how long it is until you finally hear the loud pop from under your cunt. Your substance still painting his maw, he looks prideful as ever.

Geto asks,”Feel good?” You nod, leaning your full weight on Gojo’s chest, practically boneless from your orgasm. “Yeah, just feel tired.” You respond. Geto hand grows to travel down to your inner thigh, rubbing his fingers comfortingly. “That’s normal, you did such a good job. Why don’t you go lay on your back for me?”

You obey with the assistance of Gojo once more, almost manhandling you down onto the mattress. Geto arises from his laying position now he slots himself in between your thighs until he’s face to face with you. Gojo positions himself next to your face, cock now free and poking your cherubic cheek. “Too tired to suck babe? I really wanna see if Geto’s lessons are paying off.” Gojo asks.

You shake your head no and part your lips, nudging closer to his mushroom tip. He gets closer to push all of the peak in, not pushing any further. Your tongue swirls around it, just like how Geto taught you to. Gojo groans,”Mmm, that already feels so good.” Geto above you pulls down both his pants and boxers, dick now resting on your puffy folds. He’s gazing at you with softness,”I’m going to put a bit in,okay?”

You nod, taking more of Gojo into your cavern. The long haired man pushes less than his tip in, the fat expanse of it already having you holding in a gasp. Gojo holds your head taut, pushing his dick even further til you’re halfway at his shaft. “Take it ughhh—yeah just like that. Doing so good, taking two dicks.” Gojo makes you feel better before his big hand almost slams you all the way down to his fluffy white bush.

Geto chides him,”This is her first time and you’re already making her dumb.” Gojo quickly bites back,”You don’t get it, her mouth feels like heaven. I see why you had her doin this all the time.” Geto rolls his eyes as he reluctantly agrees,”It does, she’s such a fast learner. But you don’t know what I’m feeling right now, poor thing is gripping the hell out of me.” Geto addresses you now,” Relax for me cutie, it’s okay I won’t put it all in until you are.”

You try to but it still feels the same for him. He huffs as he places a little bit more of his tip, tipping in n out ever so slowly. Groaning above you, feline orbs watching your mouth bob up and down on Gojo’s cock. “F-Fuck, just like that, keep doing that with your tongue. Such a good girl.” Gojo’s abs flex and his grip on head becomes harsher, practically crushing it with the strength.

You’re more laxed now, eased by the sensation of Geto’s careful motions. He barely goes over his peak, just enough that has you halting your sucking movements. Then he eases the new inches a little more, going even slower, taking his tip out just enough only to slide in a few more each time.

He repeats this until you’re halfway down his shaft, enough length for him to go a a tad faster. He groans bucking his dick up into your greedy warmth. You suck harder on Gojo’s dick, drool pooling down your chin, eyes watering and held shut with the big stretch you feel down below.

Gojo says your name, thrusting his eager hips in your mouth until he hears the delicious sounds of your gags. “So good! Open your eyes baby, look at how good you’re making me feel.” You obey and you’re greeted with Gojo’s flushed face, his pretty pink lips bitten and his teeth complementing the color. “Mhm just like that, keep looking at me while I fuck your face.” His commanding hand pushes you all the way down this time, his pubes now meeting your nostrils. And as the tip of his dick finds refuge in the back of throat Geto decides it’s time you take a little more.

He slides in almost all of his shaft, only one to two inches being away from balls deep. And you flail, hands gripping the sheets as your face contorts because of the lack of oxygen and the added new spreading sensation. It feels like you’re being invaded, slowly molded into being brainless. You couldn’t think anymore. It was just their dicks that consumed your mind, how good they felt, how Gojo’s constantly kissing the back of your throat, how Geto’s had your eyes rolling back.

It was bound to happen. You were bound to be under them this way, mouth abused and poor virgin hold stretched til its wit end. Geto at last bottoms out, balls slapping against your ass cheeks.

He grumbles your name, cooing at you as your body starts bouncing with each powered buck. Four pairs of eyes watch how your softest parts jiggle with his ministrations, Geto even thrusting harder just to see your adorable little pudge move some more.

“You look so good getting fucked baby, all full everywhere, just perfect—fuck and this mouth taking me so well.” Gojo says. Geto rests his head in the crook of your neck, slamming all his length into you with no more consideration. They were hungry—starved and it was showing clearly. Geto reaches for your face, despite it being full, he still caresses it, looking at you like you’re the prettiest thing to ever grace this earth. “Taking me so good, feelin so good too, so wet for me. I-I just might—f-fuck cum.”

Gojo agrees,”Y-Yeah ahh me too, everywhere feels so good baby.” As he says that’s he finally stops his ruthless pace in your mouth. Opting for laying his length a top your face, throbbing with lust. Geto thrusts harder, the grip on your face becomes more prominent. He’s peering into your eyes as he goes in n out dragging his hips deliciously every time he exits.

The white haired man spits a glob of saliva on your cheek, mirroring when he’s done this before. He slaps his cock on your cheek, then places both his hands flat onto both his length and your jowl. He bucks forwards experimentally, whining at the softness of the surface. Geto fucks harder into you, eating up the sight of your face literally getting fucked. He moves his gentle touch down to your neck now, loosely wrapping around it.

Your eyes lull back and you’re babbling. Saying whatever made most sense, none of it did though. All that was coherent was your rambles of “sososogood!” Geto begins jackhammering, the hold on your next becoming harsher with every entrance and exit of his cock. Gojo thrusts on your visage grow hurried as well, along with more spit pouring down onto your skin.

Your reach for Geto’s biceps, appearing so fucked out it has both of them fighting their climax. You’re tightening around him, legs wrapping so he won’t flee, because there’s no escaping when his cock is making you feel this good. Then you feel it again, the snapping sensation undoing in your belly, releasing the full pinnacle of pleasure. But it was too consuming. Too much for you to stay conscious for.

You fully blacked out. Not even the warmth of Geto’s seed in your cunt could call you back to consciousness, nor Gojo’s finish pooling down your cheek.

The two men hum blissfully , both commenting on how adorable you look just for them. “Do you want to call the movers in the morning?” Gojo asks. “I’ll call them tonight, so by the morning they’ll be here.” Geto replies.

Gojo hums in thought,”What if she’ll get mad at us again?” The man above you pulls out, staring at Gojo with seriousness,”She’ll come with us anyway. After all she promised not to leave again.” He said it with such a darkness, that not even Gojo wants to pry. He hopes you won’t freak out, after all, you need them.

Poor little recluse, too desperate to know you’re with the wrong company. Too late now.



OMG HAI SECOND FIC AND ITS EVEN LONGER! Pls lmk if we like the long fics or not! Maybe I’ll start doing some short ones while I’m writing long ones like these!

Please reblog and comment! It means the world to me!:))

[rookthorne]

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚, 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒐𝒔 𝒌𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯'𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘥𝘦 - 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨.

↠  about me ↠  masterlist 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 1 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 2 ↠  blog rules & tags

↠  𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘺  |  @rookthornesramblings ↠  𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨  |  @rookthornereads ↠  𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘴  |  @rookthornesartistry

𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘯, 𝘬𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘬…

↠ 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐥 | Bodyguard!CW!Bucky x F!Reader x Bodyguard!Winter Soldier

↠ 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 & 𝐒𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | Baker!Husband!Bucky x Baker!Wife!F!Reader

↠ 𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 | Results

↠ 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲 | Lumberjack!Bucky x F!Reader

↠ 𝐆𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧 | Viking!Bucky x Fae!Reader

↠ 𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨 | Paramedic!Bucky x F!Reader

↠ 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 | Monster!Bucky x F!Reader

↠ 𝐀 𝐋𝐚𝐦𝐛 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | Monster!Bucky x F!Reader

↠ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐏𝐭. 𝟐 | Pornstar!Bucky x Innocent!F!Reader

↠ 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞 '𝐧 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐞 | Baker!Husband!Bucky x Baker!Wife!F!Reader

↠ 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Modern!Bucky x Writer!F!Reader

↠ 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 | Firemen!Stucky x F!Reader

Graphics by yours truly!

[rookthorne]

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚, 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒐𝒔 𝒌𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯'𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘥𝘦 - 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨.

↠  about me ↠  masterlist 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 1 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 2 ↠  blog rules & tags

↠  𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘺  |  @rookthornesramblings ↠  𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨  |  @rookthornereads ↠  𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘴  |  @rookthornesartistry

𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘯, 𝘬𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘬…

↠ 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐥 | Bodyguard!CW!Bucky x F!Reader x Bodyguard!Winter Soldier

↠ 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 & 𝐒𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | Baker!Husband!Bucky x Baker!Wife!F!Reader

↠ 𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 | Results

↠ 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲 | Lumberjack!Bucky x F!Reader

↠ 𝐆𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧 | Viking!Bucky x Fae!Reader

↠ 𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨 | Paramedic!Bucky x F!Reader

↠ 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 | Monster!Bucky x F!Reader

↠ 𝐀 𝐋𝐚𝐦𝐛 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | Monster!Bucky x F!Reader

↠ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐏𝐭. 𝟐 | Pornstar!Bucky x Innocent!F!Reader

↠ 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞 '𝐧 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐞 | Baker!Husband!Bucky x Baker!Wife!F!Reader

↠ 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Modern!Bucky x Writer!F!Reader

↠ 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 | Firemen!Stucky x F!Reader

Graphics by yours truly!

[myfictionaldreams]

Accidents Happen // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?

Requested by: @theatrelove3000​ (thank you so much for the message! I hope your eye is doing better and I hope you enjoy this fic)

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, hints of winter solider, minor injuries/reader is injured, protectiveness, possessive behaviour, anxiety, pool sex, butt plugs, anal/vaginal sex, double penetration, handjob, multiple orgasms, sir kink, praise kink, size kink, bucky needs a hug, mentions of murder, not beta read

Words: 6.4k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link 

Keep reading

[teyuuka]

There are currently 3 ENG translation requests on the way under my DLsite, and all of them are femdom ❤️ (should I let y'all guess which CDs they are?)

2 of them are from June (the month, not my name lol) so this is my way of kind of tracking how long it takes for a cd to be approved

[teyuuka]

if you like ear-licking

disclaimer i didn't buy this yet but if you are into intense ear licking i just found out that ujimatcha (one of the few indie circles i've been keeping tabs on) just released a CD of ONLY ear licking tracks, here's the link! reviews seem promising... there's no dialogue but the last track has a bit of a sexytime feel to it and quality seems good too based on the sample

[tonycries]

Beast - R.S.

Synopsis. Four arms. Four eyes. Two mouths. Ryomen Sukuna has everything he needs and more: power, riches, enough concubines that he’s grown bored of such frivolities. That is, until you’re entering his royal estate as the newest addition—and he just didn’t expect such a puny little human to become… His favorite.

Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!concubine!reader, Heian era!Sukuna, true form!Sukuna, DP, Sukuna’s second mouth, the Sukuna Estate, other concubines, schemes, sIight pIot, mostly just true form Kuna mmmmpfg, he’s the master, he’s BIG (like really big), four arms, two mouths, he’s FÉRAL, mouth-ríding, sort of face-sítting, p sIapping, oraI (f + brief m), DÚMBlFICATION, making it fit, tight squeezes, stretching, tummy buIges, cervíx smooches, sIight degradation, bréeding, mentions of heirs, MANHANDLlNG, tension, full nélsons, overstímulation, spítting, foIding, stopping you from running, making you CRY, rough s, he’s MEAN, creampíes, cúmpIay, muIti-tasking (iykyk), implied marathon, slight proposals, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 10.5k

A/N. Blame that split-second frame from the last episode not me…

“Of the eighty-two chambers, you are free to enter most.” Uraume’s words were smooth, steady, and not a second longer than necessary; just as their steps were down these winding hallways. 

You’re hastening your strides to keep up.

“You may roam in the gardens and libraries. The main kitchen has its doors always open, the Eastern one is for specialty desserts and guests, and the Western one is for poisons…and guests.” They continue, “The dojo is forbidden to anyone but the master, and you are expected in the Buddha room every evening.”

They suddenly halt.

Boredly, “You do plan to stay alive, I believe?”

And you could barely breathe, “I-I believe so?”

You’re realizing that you’ve stopped at the end of a massive bridge connecting to a quieter wing of the estate—intricately carved, and accompanied by a slow river drifting underneath. Uraume’s hand falls to the edge of the lattice doors, “Good. Here we have the concubine quarters-” Looking at you seriously, “-where you shall reside.”

A shiver runs down your spine.

Truth be told, you hadn’t expected to get this far.

According to what the stories and legends claimed, a mere mortal like you would have been sniffed out—would have been sought after, would have your flesh torn to shreds the very second you stepped inside the Sukuna Estate. If not by the monster that inhabited it, then the Estate itself.

Some whispered that it was inhabited by cursed spirits - amongst something far, far worse - that both guarded and imprisoned. Whilst others whispered that the house itself was a cursed spirit in the form of this sprawling aristocratic estate—as vast as a palace. Even more whispered that whomever entered the house gained a taste for blood, and even most claimed that a house’s auspiciousness reflected that of its master’s. 

For who else would inhabit such a place but Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses himself?

If the public whispered about the estate, they simply yelled about the sorcerer that inhabited it. Blood-curdling screams. 

There was no avoiding the rumors that swirled around the special-grade; those who were unfortunate enough to cross his path painted a picture of a beast more than eight feet tall, with glowing blood-red eyes and horns that tore open the skies. Storms he could silence with a single wave of his hand. His powers were what made legends—never before had there been seen a sorcerer as strong as he, and it was likely that there never shall be again. Though that was not for a lack of trying, or talent, or assassinations. 

Despite remaining living, he was depicted in temples and murals of hell. Four arms. Four eyes. Two mouths and countless tattoos. So imbued in his sorcery that it metamorphosed his physical body itself - Ryomen Sukuna was said to be something more than human, but something less than a person. 

Look at him wrong and you might find yourself without sight. Without life. 

Thus, not many dared to lay their eyes upon him—but they didn’t have to. He left a pathway of destruction and blood-soaked footprints wherever he went. 

A kill count higher than several populations.

Wherever he went, it loomed the dark shadow of a hand across the land. Currently that hand was grasped tight around the city of Heian-kyō: the home of Ryomen Sukuna, it sat at the very center of the capital. Dubbed aptly by the citizens to be The Estate of the Dead. For no human that wandered inside, will ever wander out.

And yet, that’s exactly the chance you’d taken today.

You’d had enough.

You’d waltzed right up to those grand doors this evening, dwarfing everything and anything around it, and knocked. Dark mahogany panels. Gilded handles. Unlike most noble homes, the Sukuna Estate didn’t need to have guards stationed outside it—for who was mad enough to bother the King of Curses?

You, it seems.

And so the busy road froze around you; the residents paused mid-gossip, the merchants stopped haggling their prices, the carts and wheels creaked to a halt—the world itself held its breath as the doors to the estate had opened.

And a short, slender person stepped outside.

They were dressed in a dark monk’s robe draped over a white kimono, equally white hair dazzling - almost ethereally odd - underneath the sunlight. They closed the door behind themself, and looked at you intensely. “State your purpose.”

You struggled to remember why you were here in the first place, “I-It is my greatest honor to-”

“Hasten.”

“I only wished to-”

“Hasten-”

“A position.”

You weren’t sure who was more bewildered at the words that blurted out of you—you or the citizens around you. There were soft gasps that echoed into the air, peering even closer at the strange interaction. However, the attendant merely looked at you uncertainly, and you hurried to explain yourself. “I come seeking employment, my lord of the house.”

“I am but a mere servant.” They replied, raising one hand. “And we seek help no longer.”

As they attempted to turn back and go inside, you’re rushing. “Please-”

Brows furrowed, “I said we seek help no-”

“But I swear that I shall be the most loyal servant to the master…” Bowed slightly, a slight rush of relief goes through you as you notice they’ve turned back. Just barely, but it’s something. “-after yourself, of course.”

They huffed in slight amusement.

And your hands shook. Gripped onto the long length of your sleeves, you steadied them before you continued - just as you’d practiced. “I swear upon my soul that no assignment shall be too great, no concern too small. Please—please, I have scoured every street and alley for weeks now in search of employment, and you have been the only one kind enough to open your doors…Any job is enough for me- any. Just spare me the chance.” Hands twisted together into a plea, “I beg of you.”

They looked slightly taken aback, and you stepped closer to seize your chance.

“My body is the master’s, and I shall gladly undertake any task.” You gazed straight into their doe-like, brown eyes—“Any task.”

Their lips barely moved as they repeated, “Any?”

“Any.”

There was a ringing silence following your answer, and you knew that everyone in the once-bustling vicinity must have been staring at you. But that didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered but the way the white-haired attendant let their brows raise, they appraised you from head to toe.

Head to toe.

Head to toe.

It honestly seemed like forever before they finally sighed, “At ease.”

And you shot upwards from your painstaking bow with an awed breath. 

Untold, the doors to the Sukuna Estate opened. They turned around, not meeting your eyes - nor that of anyone around you two - and gestured for you to follow them inside. Stepping inside as though they didn’t care whether you proceeded or not, the strange attendant uttered. “I expect you to use your body well to serve the master.” Just barely tilted to the side to take another look at you, “You have one night to please him.”

The sound of wrought iron echoed through the ancient city like thunder.

And you touched your sleeve once more - your best silk, but more specifically…the dagger you’d hidden beneath it. 

You had one night to take down the King of Curses.

In no time, you’d been led around the massive estate by Uraume - they’d uttered their name to you between the meeting chamber and the second library - and your heart still thumps away at your throat as they now creeeeeeak—! open the quarters for the concubines. Blood bubbling in your veins. Blade cold against your skin.

There was a buzzing sort of excitement that seemed to extend from the weapon and onto you—only growing stronger as you’re pacing inside. 

It wasn’t the small, structured sort of barrack that you might’ve expected - you weren’t sure the validity, but you’d already heard stories about how concubines were cramped together in certain royal palaces. Bunks on top of bunks. Bodies that remained undernourished and untouched.

However, what Uraume takes you through is a gilded hallway—nothing out-of-place from the rest of the palace. On one side was a line of separate rooms, at the end of the hallway the paneled doors opened to a garden. It had unlit lanterns on the high ceilings and intricate artifacts that seemingly sprouted from the gleaming wooden floors; the spotless corridor branched and divulged into several other rooms and hallways, weighed with nameplates, and you were shocked to realize that each concubine seemed to have their room - no matter how small their rank; there was a lingering of perfume in the air. 

Fit for royals.

Your eyes bounce off of the walls, and Uraume watches your reaction closely. “I assume it is to your liking?”

“Yes-” You wouldn’t want to give off the wrong impression - especially not when a mere offense could mean death—“F-forgive me, it’s far more than to my liking, it’s…” Taking another awed look around, “-magnificent. I suppose I didn’t expect it to be so…”

“Beautiful?” Uraume seems to read your mind.

And you can only turn to them and nod. 

They sagely nod, something knowing in their tone. “The master has an inclination to all that is beautiful and surprising.” Looking at you closely, “Particularly surprising.”

Uraume’s expression gives nothing away, and you attempt to do the same - the dagger glints coldly against your hand. A single movement and it could cut you. A single movement and it could be in your hands.

You don’t know how long they maintain eerie eye contact with you before the sound of footsteps makes you tear your eyes away—and where you’re perhaps expecting to see the monster, the inhuman, the master of this house himself—it’s another woman. Human, perhaps.

Donned in expensive silk that robes her figure, she tip-toes towards the two of you with a sheepish smile upon her painted face. 

She bows, and you’re bowing back.

“Forgive my intrusion.” She says as she straightens once more, “It is seldom we meet a new girl. Perhaps this is forward, but am I right in presuming you are one of the new concubines?”

“O-oh, you are correct.” You’re surprised by her warm and welcoming demeanour - weren’t fights and jealousy typical of close concubine quarters? Wasn’t she supposed to scheme and plot against you just as you were doing against her- you suppose your master?

But she takes your hand and beams at you, “Then it is most wonderful to make your acquaintance. Ask me anything you would like.”

Your lips part - unsure what to say - but the white-haired attendant at your side beats you to it by announcing. “Dinner shall be served shortly.” They turn, about to make their exit before eyeing you closely. “Human.”

And you wondered whether they meant to call you human…or they meant that dinner was human. 

Once those delicate doors slide shut, and Uraume’s footsteps disappear, you’re just then realizing that you were still holding onto the other woman’s hand. Mustering up some semblance of a smile, you’re asking her—“Could you tell me about…Ryomen Sukuna?”

.

.

.

“There’s a descendant of the esteemed Kamo clan here, as well—” One of the women chuckle, taking a deep drink of her sake - one of those expensive types that came in an intricate wooden box. She smacks her lips in satisfaction, “-but you just missed her.”

Your heart batters against your chest- you still had the dagger hidden up your sleeve. Setting down your water, you hope that none of the other concubines here can hear the waver in your voice- “I see. Is she perhaps attending the…?”

“Huh?” The woman looks at blearily for a few seconds. “Who? The master?”

You nod silently.

She exchanges a look with one of the other women-

Before bursting into rambunctious laughter. 

And you’re sitting there confused as they clap one another on the shoulders, as they rattle the food-laden table—as they wipe mirthful tears from their eyes. Repeating the last sentence to one another and breaking out into peels of laughter once more. Surely, you hadn’t said anything too humorous…perhaps this was some unspoken rule of etiquette you’d missed?

It hadn’t been too long since you’d been somewhat- absorbed into the group of numerous concubines upon concubines that were housed in the Sukuna Estate. Many more than you’d initially predicted - the hallway you’d entered had been just one of many residential wings. 

Right now, about half of them sat at a long table of which you couldn’t clearly see its end - both because of length and the sheer volume of food towering upon it. All sorts of soups and noodles. All sorts of breads and wines. All sorts of meats and charred vegetables. Desserts and colorfully-packaged sweets from around the world that you’d once believed that only the emperor himself would have been able to taste.

It would have been possible to dislike every food you’d ever known, and still find something here that made you wish to stay…if just for the food.

You could hear the other half of the women chattering and laughing away in another dining room connected to this one. 

All in all, your proponent - a woman you’d learned was connected with the Fujiwara family - had told you everything about Sukuna as she introduced you to the other concubines. They took you in readily, to your surprise, and cooed and surrounded and showed you around. Speaking to you about how the estate was designed personally by Sukuna himself. How Uraume was his (human) cook. How he was a ruthless ruler, and the hallways were more often bloodied than not—but he didn’t lay a hand on them.

When they’d told you this, you’d assumed it was regarding his more…aggressive reputation on the battlefield. You didn’t think it meant-

“Our Kamo girl has travelled to Edo.” The woman from earlier - Abe, you remember her name being - continues as the others settle down. She whispers scandalously, “To visit her lover.”

You breathe in sharply, “The master permits you to take lovers?”

“It isn’t that he permits…” Fujiwara smiles warmly at you - not too far down the table. The other concubines nod as she continues, “It’s that he doesn’t pry—he has no time for human frivolities. After all, the master hasn’t called for one of the girls in…well, since we can remember. He’s a picky man. But nowadays, girls enter and leave the estate as they please, as they wish for employment. Most choose to join the house staff in time, for we aren’t bound, and the master seems to have no need for concubines these days.”

Surprise overtakes you, your hand grips tightly on your sleeve. But your objective…

Abe speaks up now, “Which is why it’d been quite the surprise to know he’d allowed in yet another.” She leans in with a conspiratorial smile, “Perhaps you’re the type to really get his loins going-”

“Abe—!” A few other women swat at her.

“I jest- I jest—” She winks at you, “In part. Would you prefer to lay with the master?”

Something twists at the bottom of your stomach, “I-if it must come to it, I wouldn’t mi-”

You’re cut off as they exclaim in scandal all around you. 

Fujiwara shakes her head with a smile, then she looks at you. “No matter what it is, you shall be housed and fed here. You shall never go without despite the master’s…”

“Impotence?”

“…”

“I jest-”

“What’s more—” She pulls back her sleeves and gestures for a bowl of sake, “Given the state of affairs, I highly doubt that you would ever have to-”

Just then, there’s a tap at the sliding doors.

An announcement of Uraume’s title—before they’re cracking the entrance open just a fraction. That stark white hair of theirs flashes from the gap in the door, illuminated by both the dim yellow lighting and the curiosity leaking out of the dining room; eyes scanning the vast chamber before finally landing on you.

An utterance of your name.

All eyes snap to you.

“The master wishes for you to join him tonight.”

One by one, you could feel the jaws of the other women drop—as well as your own. Right alongside something at the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t quite describe. 

As the silence stretches and expands to the other speechless dining chamber- Fujiwara lets out a pointed cough—and it’s all you need to jolt right back to your senses. Scrambling to stand up, you barely have the time to smooth down your kimono before following Uraume out of the room - throwing a cautionary glance over your shoulder. 

Fujiwara smiles, slightly shocked. 

Abe winks. 

The sliding doors rattle closed, and the whirlwind of gossip that follows accompanies you even to the bridge. 

Head ducked. Hands in sleeves. Uraume remains painfully silent as you’re following them down winding hallways and past chambers vast enough to be estates themselves; and though you’d been given a tour of the place beforehand, you can’t help but let your mind get just a little frazzled at the thought of what was to come after.

Of what was to come once they finally stopped.

And they do—after what feels like nights upon nights, the white-haired attendant stops before two sliding doors - nothing but sliding doors. Though you’d assumed that the King himself might have decked his personal chambers with several of his best guards, you’re realizing with a prickle of anticipation that he didn’t need them.

But that only made your job easier.

Invisible hands seem to pull the doors - panes decorated in artwork depicting archery - apart, and you’re entering a room that would have been too lavish for an emperor. 

A massive rectangular-shaped room of which strange interconnected woodwork make up the flooring; windows towering from floor-to-ceiling, half-hidden by thick curtains of red velvet. They clung themselves onto a ceiling that was gilded, calligraphy rounding the high perimeter, and a chandelier-like composition of lanterns fashioned down from it. Reds and greens and blacks and golds, the most eye-catching painting colors of furniture within. 

In the far end of the royal chamber was the futon. 

And you would describe its incredible size and its golden threading, even the red, red blanket that covered it- you would…but your eyes were far more interested in who was occupying it.

Thighs spread. Two elbows resting on his knees.

All four eyes locked on you since the moment you step inside-

“Uraume.” His lips barely seem to move, though that hoarse baritone is hard to deny. It wasn’t as inhuman as you might have expected—it sounded human and yet, there was surely something malevolent in the way he made your thighs squeeze together with just a single word. “You are dismissed.”

You’re feeling Uraume bow deeply next to you, and in the blink of an eye they’re gone-

In another blink of an eye, Ryomen Sukuna has one large hand stuck out - index quirked at you, he beckons you to him once. Only once. 

And you gulp as you walk to him.

This was your first time really seeing the King of Curses- fuck. He was wearing nothing but baggy white pants and a strange, carnal inkling about him. Engulfing you in it the second you’re locking eyes with him. The legends were right…somewhat.

Because Sukuna truly was larger than any mere mortal could ever be: with shoulders sculptured and broad enough that they’d put your best warriors to shame, with corded muscle around biceps the size of your head, with his pecs creating a bumpy road for his tattoos. He was about nine feet tall—perhaps even taller than the stories said. Far taller. Far stronger. Far more monstrous. 

Abs consistently patterned his front, disrupted only by the presence of his second mouth - it slashes aaaaall the way across his navel, large n’ licking his cursed lips with a grin.

And those tattoos- oh, those tattoos.

They were the tattoos of a criminal - two looping around each of his four arms like shackles, and then a circle on all four deltoids.

You bite the inside of your cheek—you knew your mission. But fuck- you won’t deny that a part of you wanted him so bad. 

Sukuna’s pink hair catches the lantern light as he leans back on two hands, meaty thighs manspreading before you. And in-between you swear you could see the thick, throbbing outlines of two-

“On your knees.” The King commands. Crimson eyes narrowing, “Should you so wish.”

And your knees are buckling almost instinctually- he raises a rose-pink brow as he watches your hands reach for your sleeve…before ultimately going against your orders to settle down before the foot of the bed where he was seated. 

Embarrassment curdles in your chest as you’re crawlin’ yourself closer to him, and the sorcerer himself hums in approval once you’re leaning your cheek against his right thigh. Rubbing. 

The muscles underneath twitch—and Sukuna’s swollen tips let out a spurt of precum that puddles right in front of your lips. That translucent dampness stretches across the fabric and wets your lips with its salty taste- you whine.

Right before he grasps the back of your sweaty scalp with one massive hand- and shoves your head down onto one clothed cock. Your mouth gaped wide and plopping! right on top of his mushroomy tip—an open kiss against where his sensitive slit was flared outwards. 

He’s pulsating against your lips.

And you’re moaning with your eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of his entire tip being nearly fuckin’ big enough to envelop your entire maw-

“Do you understand now?” Sukuna’s tone rumbles from above - low and level in a way that speaks of such power. He doesn’t reveal anything more, however. “Do you understand that your puny human body cannot handle me?”

You’re looking up at him with furrowed brows, “I-I understand…”

“Do you understand that I may ruin you?”

“I understand.”

“Do you understand that you cannot take m-”

“I want you-” And almost as bewildering as the fact that you’ve interrupted him, is that Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t crush you with his cursed energy on the spot for interrupting him. “-my lord.”

But that seems to be his tipping point. For his large stomach mouth quirks upwards in what almost seems like a smile—

And Sukuna gruffs out, “Then kiss your King.”

And so you’re gripping onto the soft edge of the mattress and leaning yourself up into his kiss- not the one his face was so ready for—but one where you’re leaning in and pressing a chaste peck onto his second mouth.

Onto those monstrously large lips hungrily gaping at his stomach.

Onto that fucking hungry - starved - maw so deprived of any touch that he’s immediately slurpin’ the edge of his textured tongue outwards. Attempting to enter his incredible size between your own lips, Sukuna’s only managing to fit about an inch of his cursed tastebuds—swipin’ the insides of your heated cavern and making you gasp, before he’s searing his grip into your scalp and tugging you off-

“Naughty naughty.” He trundles. And yet there’s a glimmer of something different in his eyes that told you Ryomen Sukuna was almost…excited. He’s patting one side of him on the futon, “Come up here with me, insolent thing.”

In no time, you’re hauled onto the bed and straddling the infamous King. 

Thighs struggling to squeeze around his toned core, cunt drooling your slick through your panties. As you’re inadvertently rubbing uuuup and down his ridged abs- it creates a snail trail of glistening sap that trickles all the way down to his pinkish-brown happy trail. 

Sukuna titters once he leans his head down and takes in the mess - n’ then he’s gripping one side of your waist with a single hand. 

Squeezing lightly, it doesn’t take even a mere fraction of his power to glide the exterior of your pussy down those unruly tufts of hair—dooooooown in a carnal scratch as he positions you directly on top of his second mouth.

His second mouth.

Now gaped wide open and fucking ravenous.

Immediately cracking apart from each other with a parched gasp- something deep and rumbling from his underbelly. It reminds you of a creature that’s been starved for eons—something that makes shivers run up your spine right from the in-betweens of your drippin’ wet cunt. Right as you’re feeling his oversized tongue press aside your ruined underwear and start to eeeeeease inside-

“Fuh-fuuuuck—” Dazed peripherals rolling to the back of your head - without even realizing it, you’re planting your feet onto the futon and bucking- whether more into Sukuna’s cursed mouth or away from it…you’re unsure.

But he’s making the decision for you. He’s cupping either side of your hips with two clawed hands, letting those pointed tips dig into your clammy flesh, “Easy-” Letting out a rumbling chuckle. “Easy there, woman.”

Gasping, you’re lurching- 

“Easy.”

And it’s all he needs to steady you.

It’s all he needs to tighten his hold onto your squirmin’ body, until it’s like he’s attached onto you with adhesive. It doesn’t take much of him to move you ‘round and spread open those folds even further like a pretty flower—that massive tongue of his wastes no time before swirling around that first ring of muscle. Cutely clenching around him- fuck, he can’t wait.

Before slurping his muscle back and shoving it straight between your pussylips. 

Through the popping pressure in your ear, “Because how’re you gonna take my cocks otherwise?”

And you really didn’t forget who you were dealing with, did you?

You really didn’t think that Ryomen Sukuna - the King of Curses - was going to go easy on you…did you?

Because without even waiting for your struggling walls to get used to the size, his enlarged tongue reels all the way backwards with a deafening slurp! Right until the curvaceous tip was ticklin’ at your entrance, before Sukuna’s thrusting all the way back in. Again.

Your toes curl. Your eyes dart instantly to the back of your head. 

Sukuna himself cracks a smirk- before he’s then doing it again.

And again.

“Don’t think yer running from it.” A third hand ends up plastered atop your clammy scalp- dangerously gripping your head and puuuuuushing you down onto him. 

As far as your tight hole would let him. Your thighs quiver, “B-but-” Bucking.

“Now now, brat—” Pushing you back down. “Ya get what you’re given.”

Again and again.

It doesn’t matter how many times you’re twisting on top of him because of the ruthless swabbin’ of his tastebuds inside. Honed at the very tip and zig-zagging around in a way that makes you viscerally shake on top of him—he’s slipping his velvety muscle inside and stirring it a few times to get a reeeeally good feel for your walls. For how much you’d stretch. “Because you shall fit- oh…” He seethes between clenched canines, nose scrunched at the very top. “You must- fit it. You must not run away.”

Another tough battering ram of his thick tongue - it’s almost adorable how your poor body is being jerked to and fro. He murmurs, “For who can possibly escape Ryomen Sukuna? Heh.”

His tongue seems to wind n’ stretch even deeper inside you after his own self-praise - you always have heard rumors about the King of Curses being particularly egotistical…though righteously. 

And again and again—“P-please.” Sukuna’s second tongue fills you up in all sorts of ways you’ve never felt before - not with the texture or the size or the complete and utter need…Those ridged tastebuds of his were pushin’ into eeeeevery single nook and cranny he could reach - which was all of them. At least, as far back as your dewy walls were allowing him to go, “Such a size should be-”

“Necessary.” He’s cutting you off cleanly. “Besides…”

Sukuna raises a pink brow, leaning backwards on the mattress to watch his massive tongue indulge in and out. In and out. In and out.

Your puffy folds being pushed apart at a rapid pace, your gloss seeping everywhere as he tunnels inside—he’s letting out a low whistle of approval as his second mouth creates such a mess between your legs. Monstrous tongue jerking outwards and slapping the front of your cunt teasingly- it makes a fresh wave of your juices slather down your thighs.

And he smiles - already knowing that he’s going to clean this up later.

The King’s chest rumbles with satisfaction, “Heh- you should be aware, little human…that m’not even halfway inside yet.”

There were two things in that sentence that drove you utterly wild: the fact that he mentioned he was barely inside, and the fact that he said…yet. As though to prove the point he’d just sparked inside your muddled brain, Sukuna arches his hips off the bed and ruts-

Pistoning his tongue a mere inch deeper.

Even though - to you - it feels like he’d just struck his tongue against your very throat—“Wh-what you claiming…” Your thighs quake as he continues fucking you between them, “How much longer may you possibly have to go?”

“Oh…an inch, two, four….seven.” Sukuna tilts his head airily, “Tch- such tedious tasks are meant for humans. How about you count instead?”

You balk, “Pardon, master?”

“Count, little human.” And without a single warning, his fourth hand snakes underneath your flapping kimono- between those sopping pussylips and squeezing at your poor clit. “Your master orders you to count.”

And the only thing you can possibly do is let your eyes shutter at the pleasure, lips trembling as Sukuna’s second tongue finds its mazin’ way across your walls. As you’re struggling to get a single word out, however, at least the ruthless sorcerer slooooows his pace down to something more languid- making sure you feel every bump and vein.

Every quirk.

Every inch.

Until finally you’re throwing your head behind and vocalizing—after only a few sloppy strikes. “T-two…”

“Heh…interesting.” One of those gnarled hands clasped onto your sides reaches upwards n’ grabs onto your pretty face, smushin’ those cheeks together as he stares deeply into your eyes. Sukuna takes in your dazed peripherals, your spit-glossed lips - the way you looked completely and utterly gone on his tongue, and yet…still managed to answer his question.

Mere mortals never did manage to surprise him anymore. You, however…

Before even he knows what he’s doing, Ryomen Sukuna leans inwards and spits between your gaped maw. Rushing to then kiss you with his own lips - eyes widened, mouth hungry. He looks bewildered himself, as his cursed mouth continues rubbin’ your pussy raw—“It seems we have a feisty little human on our hands.” Three out of four hands groping at your sides and making you ride him-

You’re trembling.

“And yet, who told you to cease your counting?”

Thwack!

“Three—” You cry out. Expectedly, Sukuna was mean—that fourth n’ final hand of his plasters his knobbly fingertips against your sensitive nub. Spanking you hard enough to see stars.

But Sukuna only grins, “Incorrect.”

Yet another spank. Yet another brush of his cursed tongue inwards- and you swear that you’re starting to hear his second mouth start to snicker to himself. Was that even possible? 

Were you even thinking? Were you even breathing?

It doesn’t take his keen eyes long to realize that he’s left you completely and utterly stupid on his tongue—just so luscious and lewd. Spreadin’ apart your puffy folds and funneling your insides with him, “Four- four—”

“Correct.” Just to tease you, those fingers of his leave another rude spank.

And Sukuna doesn’t bother letting you gather your bearings before he’s delving even deeper. 

“F-five…” You’re trembling out as you feel the massaging texture of his tastebuds enter, they’re pokin’ into spots you hadn’t even realized you had - filling out your tight channel and leaving his shape molded straight into your cunt. “And is that…ngh- six?”

“That was seven.” He rumbles out in a smug tone.

Your jaw drops as you register the massive number - seven inches of his cursed tongue fucking your pussy. And yet it still doesn’t seem as though he’s planning to stop anytime soon…

Back arched, you’re keeping your hands on top of Sukuna’s broad shoulders. Nails digging into his deltoids. And with all the strength that you could muster, you’re attempting to riiiiiide your hips back down onto his—grinding in figure-eight motions.

Sukuna was already manhandling you down onto him - now it might just be your turn to control the cadence. To control how much of him went inside you.

“J-just fuck me already—” You’re pleading. Your jaw drops with a parched whimper, hips veering down harder and harder- “Ngh- that was eight. Nine. Just fuck me- all of me.”

Sukuna’s eyes widen in slight surprise- before he’s quickly catching himself and tightening the two hands at your waist. “Now now…easy there. Go too fast for a little human, and yer going to hurt yourself.”

“But I need it.” Lip jutting out in the cutest damn pout, “I need you inside me, Kuna.”

His breath catches, “Repeat what you just uttered.”

Back bending into the most delicious curve, pushing up against his sweaty pecs. You’re sobbing out as his stomach mouth gapes even wider n’ seemed to push in even more, more, moooore of his sultry inches—“N-nine and a half…? I need you inside-”

“Not that-” Smacking your clit once more. “-you insolent brat.” The tip of his tastebuds reach the very back of your pussy, and it’s a sensation you just can’t describe. “That…title. I command you to hah, repeat it.”

“Title?”

Thwack!

“Repeat it.”

And it’s taking everything and anything in you - in your utterly cockdrunken mind - to conjure up the faintest inkling about what Sukuna was talking about. To let your head throw back with a final primal cry—for the first time since he’d started fucking you with his stomach mouth, you’re finally feeling your ass cheeks seat down properly on top of his washboard abs. 

And then you’re finding yourself in his strong arms, your moans muffled into his actual mouth. “T-ten.” Gasping through the constant drool n’ sounds of pleasure clogging up your throat, “That’s ten, Kuna—”

And there it was.

Theeeeeere it was - in more ways than one.

Ryomen Sukuna’s getting to hear that sultry nickname fall from your mouth once more - for some inexplicable reason leaving the tips of his ears feeling warm - and he’s getting to see you complete his command.

Ten entire inches of his cursed second tongue- lickin’ away every trace of sap at your inner thighs, before he’s pushing it all the way inwards. Inwards and inwards. The maw slashed across his stomach grins as he’s hitting the very back of your pussy-

And before you know it, the King is tugging you into his arms.

He kisses your mouth sloppily while his second tongue continues fucking you between your legs. Harder by the minute.

Sukuna grunts as he opens his mouth wiiiiide n’ slips his tongue between your jaw- “Suck on my tongue.” He’s echoing out in a hollow tone.

And you can do nothing but squeeze your glossy lips together—eagerly suckling on his tongue. You’re unsure whether it was from your lavish dinner prior or whether it’s just how hazy your brain is, but you’re finding him to taste almost…sweet.

And your eyes roll to the back of your head as you do so-

“Heh-” Sukuna manages to pant out between kisses, open-mouthed and hot. “Now both pairs of pretty lips are sucking on my tongue.”

And your jaw…drops- only for him to use the opportunity to kiss you even deeper.

Making you ride his stomach mouth whilst he kisses you stupid - his tongue probing inwards, inwards, inwards in looooong slick thrusts. Scrapin’ every orifice inside but especially bending around to hit your g-spot. 

You’re sure your body jolts as you feel the sudden zaps of charged pleasure, setting your body positively alight. “I-I’m so close, master.” You pout, “I must- hah- cum.”

“Must, hm?” Sukuna mutters - almost to himself. “And am I to believe that my human deserves to cum? Am I to believe that she is ready to take both my cocks?”

Nodding fervently, “Y-yes—yes, please-”

“Am I to believe that she will have no trouble taking me down to the very womb?”

“Yes-”

Crimson eyes narrow, “I will not slow down, needy human. Am I to believe that-”

“Yes-” Just so gone on your impending high. So close. 

And to your surprise, the King merely chuckles as you’re interrupting him - had this been anyone else, then they would have found themselves being made an example of. But you…you’re finding yourself jerked almost aggressively upwards as he bucks his hips, more to run the ridges of his cursed tastebuds along the interior of your walls. Harder. Faster.

You hurtle straight into your high at an incredible pace-

“If you had let your King finish…” It’s the last thing you’re hearing before the pleasure overtakes you - Sukuna’s rumbling tone. “-then perhaps you would have known my question was whether I’m to believe you shall give me an heir in my name.”

His question was going to be whether you’d give him an heir.

His question was going to be whether you’d give him an heir.

But you’re unable to articulate anything more than a few whimpers n’ grunts - because the waves of your orgasm that overtake you are enough to leave you numb. Enough to leave you babbling. Enough to leave you shaking on top of Sukuna’s toned body as he shovels his fat tongue in and out.

In and out. In and out.

The way his overlarge tongue curved was just perfect for hittin’ every spot, and you’re feeling him time out your peaks perfectly—knowing juuust when the surges of your dopamine were at their highest. 

Just then, he’d slam! his flattened tastebuds onto the exact spot of your nerves. Fingers nothing but a dizzying blur between your legs as he rolls his thumb over your clit, “Gonna take my t-tongue-” Sukuna spits between honed canines, “Gonna take my cocks then- gonna take my seed.”

“Sh-shiiiiit—” You yowl, “It feels so good, Kuna-”

“That’s ‘master’ to you.” He scoffs, nose sliding down the column of your throat. Sukuna takes one more look at the way you’re swallowing him up - at the way you grind deeper to stuff his glistening muscle between your pussylips, and shivers. “Or…consider yourself lucky to be shown mercy this time, human. Say thank you.”

“Thank you, Kuna.”

“Tch-”

And with that said, it’s not long before you’re completely and utterly fucked through your orgasm by the mouth on his stomach—through every tiny shred n’ ounce of pleasure. 

Once Sukuna feels your quiverin’ pussy finish, he’s pulling out of you with the most lecherous squelch! Letting your thighs drape limply around his waist for a few seconds- that’s as long as the King can manage before he’s sitting up on the futon and flipping the two of you around.

So that your back was against the mattress. So that your head was hitting the pillows.

Sukuna crawls his massive figure down the length of your body- four arms pinning back your slick-sheened legs as he pushes his head between them. He’s wasting no time before digging his larger-than-mortal nose between your sodden pussylips and giving your cunt a good liiiiiiiiick of his actual tongue - this time tasting you with his actual mouth.

“Shit—” You’re surging up from your comfortable position, sparks sizzling in your brain. “A-again, Kuna?”

“Your master never had his fill.”

And with that said, he’s lavishin’ your pussy with countless long licks and dribbles. Lips glued to your folds. Breathing through his nose. Sukuna darts his tongue out - thick, though definitely not to the extent of his stomach mouth’s - and zig-zags it across your entrance.

Easing his wet muscle inside—inside and inside. He’s scourin’ every inch of your walls as though to check every mark he’s made before. Just so tender. 

The velvety inches of his tastebuds flickering in and out- five inches long, you’re realizing automatically. Far longer than a normal human’s.

And it just drives you insane. 

The edges of his fangs nip either side of your entrance - Sukuna had already left you so raw with his cursed tongue prior, so now it’s only taking a few seconds before he’s getting you to spray your orgasmic juices all over his mouth once more—“K-Kuna, I’m close.”

He hums at the feeling of your trembling fingers weaving into his pink hair, “Close? Stupid brat, you’re already cumming.”

The wetness of your cunt spills down his chin.

And Sukuna’s dragging his tongue iiiiiiiiiiiin and out at a constant, sloppy pace to get you through your high. To elongate it. Curving the pointed tip of his tongue against your g-spot - he holds it there for a few seconds just to feel you shake n’ clench around him.

Before he’s breathing through his nostrils and starting to synchronize your peaks with the slashes of his tongue. “Mhmmmm—” He moans out sultry vibrations, they send shockwaves up your spine. “Yes- fuck, yes. I believe this pussy is ready for me.”

Raging through you hard and fast - he doesn’t have much time before your legs start to twitch cutely with overstimulation. Tears sheening down your face. Your jaw unfastened with the most sinful noises. 

Sukuna’s prominent nose pushes up against your clit and you’re crying out—

Looking up at you with hungry, half-lidded eyes. “I believe this pussy is ready to be my queen.”

With the pins and needles of your last two orgasms still coursing through your body, it’s nothing but a blur to you as Sukuna hovers his large body over yours once more. And it’s as if one second you’re blinking up into his handsome face, and in the next—you’re finding him laid back against the mattress- and you laid back against him. 

Your head rests against his collarbone. Your back was arched against his stomach mouth.

Your legs were dangling off somewhere around his lower half- until Sukuna reaches two of his powerful arms down to position you properly. First, he’s grabbing either side of your waist and aligning you with where his clothed erections were—then he’s spreading your legs wiiiiiiide open.

Finally, he’s cupping his clawed hands underneath your thighs and pulling them up, up, up, upwards—until they were stretched out almost beyond your ears. And Sukuna was just basking proudly in this rude full nelson that he’d manhandled you into.

Gruff laugh echoing by the side of your ear, “And now…” In the corner of your teary peripherals, you’re seeing his other two arms bend to your lower half. “-to check for myself whether this pussy can really follow orders…”

Your kimono was already an utter mess- and Sukuna doesn’t have to do much to have it bunched around your naked hips. Your cunt all glistening with slick n’ saliva from earlier—hissing at the heated air that’s hitting you. “Shit…I need you so badly, master.”

“Then I expect you to take every inch.” He replies ominously. Just then, his eager fingers drop to the hemline of his pants. “I expect you to take every drop-”

And he’s tugging.

Only for your jaw to fall—

Because Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just huge - you’d already expected as much, given his height and other physical prowess. But he was just staggering.

Just like the rest of him, there was double the number of appendages as there would be on a normal human. Two achingly-hard cocks stacked on top of each other. Inches upon inches. Despite your counting challenge earlier, you’re having trouble registering the sheer lengths that he could possibly be - ten…no….twelve? Perhaps even longer. Though you’re noticing that the upper one was just the slightest bit longer than the other.

Both just as girthy. 

Round and reddened. The plump, puckered tips upon their ends throbbed with carnal desire- oozing out generous helpings of milky-white precum that dribble down the front of your cunt. It mixes with the mess already made before, and leaves your thighs sticky with need. 

Heavy ballsack twitching underneath his second shaft. So many veins that you lose count.

“K-Kuna—” You’re whimpering as he starts to rub the shafts of his two cocks between your swollen pussylips. Pushin’ them apart and making space for his ruthless girths instead, “Want it inside, Kuna- hck! I really crave you inside me…”

“Oh, little human…” He coos from above. Larger face craning down next to yours, “Did you really believe that I was hesitating? That I was waiting for you?”

“I suppose…”

“Here’s where you are mistaken, my puny thing.” Sukuna trundles, and you don’t have to look behind to know that his sharp fangs were making an appearance. “I am no kindred man.”

A shiver runs down your spine.

And before you can open your mouth to ask what exactly he meant—his rounded tips press against your wettened crevice. Just the sweetest dual pecks, they’re letting out harsh slurps! as he starts to slip around your needy hole. “I wasn’t waiting for your body to get ready, as you so might have believed.”

“Th-then—?” You sob.

“I was waiting…” Your body bucks down into his, your hands reach up to grab at his pinkish locks and- 

And your dagger slips out.

His voice grows excited. “I was waiting-” Both of you reach for it at the same time, Sukuna with his four arms and you with your two. Your heart stutters- your hand closes around the thick, metallic hilt—“…for a distraction.”

Several things are happening at once: for one, Sukuna finally forgoes teasin’ at your readied hole to instead scour his cocks inside - fucking in with a long, hard thrust. Deeeeeeeply pressing against your cervix—it feels as though he’s splitting you sensually from the inside out, and you’ve never felt anything better.

And then you’re closing your fingers around the blade - tight - and aiming behind you to press the sharpened edge of it against his throat. 

You knew you’d struck your target. Especially when you feel the dagger tremble as he chuckles- chuckles. The King of Curses has the audacity to chuckle.

When you have a weapon to his throat.

You’re unsure whether it was overconfidence or something else entirely- but his hips don’t falter for a single second as he rams his swabbin’ tips thoroughly inwards—thumping away at the back of your pussy. Your ears sizzle with the slamming impact of skin-on-skin, “And so?” He mutters to you, “For what reason do you stall? Do it.”

You grit your teeth, blade pressing against his sunkissed skin until a bead of crimson peppers out. “Do you believe that I am too cowardly to do so?”

“Forbid the thought.” Sukuna hums, “A King assassinated by his favorite concubine? How romantic. I merely implore you to hasten-”

“I shall—”

“So do it.”

“Do not regret-”

“Do it.” 

In fact, he leans in even closer as though to help you.

He’s fucking you deep from the rounded orifice of your cunt, to the very depths of your womb. Pulse thundering inside - until it felt like he was taking over every single part of you—until your teeth were set on edge, and the thud-thud-thudding of his matching cocktips was all that you could think of. 

Your hand trembles around the hilt.

Your lips wobble with emotion.

Your eyes lock deeply with Sukuna’s own hellishly crimson ones, and-

And the dagger falls gently onto the cotton futon.

Sukuna’s body ripples with a sensation that could’ve been anything from pleasure, to victory, to utter glee—but most of all, his tone just sounded awed. 

“I knew there was something special about you, woman.”

And then you’re being crushed in Sukuna’s arms as far back as you would go - as high as your legs could reach above your head, as curvaceously as your spine could bend against his core. He’s manhandling you like nothing but a ragdoll above him—plastered to his muscular back, you’re at the mercy of his vicious thrust after thrust.

The stretch was just incredible.

The stretch was like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

Two thick, loooooooong shafts that were mazin’ between your sopping pussylips- the rounded edges of their cockheads manage to swerve your tight walls apart. Jostling against one another. Throbbing in synchronization inside you - ba-dump! Ba-dump! Ba-dump! Scraping his thumping veins inside and reaching aaaall across every nook, orifice, and cranny. Just so big.

Sukuna himself grunts out in pleasure as his cocks manage to press through the slight resistance you still maintained - his cursed tongue had stretched you out incredibly, and he’s groaning out in pleasure as his cocks manage to slide against one another and then against you- “And now- hah, and now I believe you remember what you promised me?”

“Promised?” Your lashes flutter open, “I-I’m afraid…”

“You promised me an heir.”

Your maw droops open. Your heart starts to race.

Your cunt’s drooling out your arousal at the prospect faster than you could register it- and Sukuna feels the sploshin’ leaks around his thickened bases. His grin stretches as he takes in your unspoken reaction, and before you know it—both sliding cocks are knocking at the door to your very womb-

“And I’m not Ryomen Sukuna if I don’t fuck one into you tonight, brat.”

Rough thrusts. Crushing you in his big, beefy arms. 

Closer and closer. Tighter and tighter. 

If you thought that you’d been treated like a ragdoll earlier- then you’d been lucky. Because now you’re pressed between his bulging biceps and his pecs, sweat covering both your bodies in a thin sheen as your movements grow more and more fervent—“Fuck a- hah, fuck my heir into you.” Sukuna was barely speaking by now - short, rasping bursts. “Fuck you so big and fuuuuuuuull.”

Running two hands down your front—“Master, I have doubts that it gets much more full than this.”

And he lets out what almost sounds like a guffaw, “It can.”

“Wh-what do you mean- oh.”

And all this time, you’d been damn thankful that Sukuna had chosen to stretch you out on his oversized tongue first—how else would you have fit him so easily? Softenin’ up the snug exterior of your channel. Mapping out your sweetest spots. 

Because it just made it even easier to slip inside—it just made it sooooo much more convenient for his dual tips to probe open your wet cunt. Inching and easing.

But then you’re starting to feel a third intrusion.

Then you’re starting to feel his needy tongue once more.

You’re gasping- 

The slightest, smallest ticklish sensation of…none other than his cursed mouth dragging down the inner sorts of your thighs. Just teasing. Just the roughened ridges of his tastebuds, long enough that he can snake them down and flatten them over that soft skin beside your cunt.

And in a matter of mere moments, Sukuna’s rugged hands settle deeper against your skin. Tight. Tough. He’s double-checking to make sure that your restless hips couldn’t skin away- before reeling his hips back and penetrating you in longer, harder ruts—each rude slammin’ of his cocks accompanied by the soothing laps of his cursed tongue. 

“Y-yet again—?” You’re blabbering out stupidly. Tears falling in big, bulbous beads down either of your cheeks and ending up smeared, “Kuna-”

“Mhmmmm.” He hums out - and you could almost hear the smugness in it. The way his piercing canines make an appearance as he says, “It’s for your own good, brat.” One of his hands lifts off of your sweat-covered body - folded like a lawnchair - and Sukuna runs it down your middle.

He stops right above where both his swabbin’ cocks and his tongue had started to form a tiny bulge at your stomach—“S-sensitive-”

“Exactly.” He sounds so content with himself. So damn content.

Those handsome lips - both pairs of them - quirk further upwards as he’s massaging the front of your stomach—particularly over that one spot where you’re stuffed till you’re bloated. Pressing down-down-dooooown- “And how shall this puny human body handle carrying my heir, hm?” He growls as he accelerates his ruts, “How?”

Mouth sobbing open in answer.

You're gripping onto either side of his muscular body and swervin’ your hips in response- unsure whether you wanted to rut back down for more or just…

“Running away?” Sukuna's dangerous trundle sounds from behind you, and the clasp he has on your shuddering body only grows stronger. Before you know it, you’re being manhandled like nothing but his favorite toy and shoved right back onto his twin erections-

He continues, “If you can’t handle two of my cocks—” They’re emptying out at the bottom of your pussy with two distinct thuds! The top one first, and then the squeezin’ of the latter. “If you can’t even handle my tongue…the babies of my lineage tend to be large.” 

Palm pressing down on your stomach.

“Does this pretty womb have enough space?”

And there’s nothing more for you to do but throw your head backwards and buck up into his awaiting arms. He’s only seeming to crush you even deeper against his toned body, “It does-”

“What was that?” One pink brow raises.

“I s-said it does—it does.” You’re blabbering away, thighs attempting to wrangle downwards so that you can steady yourself. But the only thing that’s succeeding in doing is making Sukuna tighten his restraint on you maddeningly - “I can fit even more of you- hngh, I can fit your…”

He grins- and this time it’s his second mouth that hisses demandingly at you. “Say it.”

“Heir in here…” And if this was any other time - if you’d been in any clearer of a state of mind - you wouldn’t have said such embarrassing words in your lifetime. And yet, here you were—bouncin’ down welcomingly into Sukuna’s largely gaped maw. “I want it, Kuna.”

“Heh?” He grins, “Then brace yourself.”

And it’s the only warning you’re getting - honestly, you’re surprised to realize that he’d given you any at all. 

Because in the next few seconds- his cursed mouth goes from lappin’ away at the sweet, sweet juices coating the edges of your cunt—to slithering between those puffy pussylips of yours and attempting to devour your pussy whole again.

Two arms laced behind your clammy scalp. Two more arms reaching down to toy with your overstimulated pussy.

“O-oh gods-” Hiccuping through your tears as you start to feel the pleasurable burn of your pussylips stretchin’ once more.

Wider and wider.

Deeper and deeper.

In, in, and in—

Sukuna's second mouth tenderly whips apart your wet walls—with the most lecherous squeeeelch! he's then attempting to stroke his tongue inwards between the thrusts of his dual cocks. Sharp, stabbing thrusts. Just to fit inside.

Three- three of his sinful appendages attempting to stuff you all full - you're losing your mind already with his throbbing cocks, but now Sukuna's tongue was a different sort of texture altogether that was just leaving you on the verge of-

“You can cum.” The King sputters out against your temple, lips moving what seems like a mile a minute. “But you have to remember to reward me with a strong heir after, hm?” Tap-tapping at the tummy bulge he was fucking into you, “Hafta give me one with my powers. Hafta give me one that- hngh, I can train into the strongest. Hafta give me one with- haaaah…” He breathes out laboriously, “-that smile.”

Your eyes shoot open as you’re registering exactly what he’s uttered, “Kuna…fuck, it feels so good.”

“Please…” And it might just be the first time that you’ve witnessed the infamous Ryomen Sukuna utter a word of plea since you’ve met him. That chiselled cheek of his nuzzles down the side of your temple, “-call me your husband.”

Oh.

Oh.

You’re barely even given enough time to let the entire ordeal sink of having him inside you sink in- before the wooden panels beneath the futon creeeeeeak—! And Sukuna’s arching his hips fully off of the dampened mattress, entering his entire greedy lengths into your pussy.

Again and again.

Reeling back until it was only the plump, glossy tips kissin’ at your entrance - before drag-drag-dragging his pulsating length inwards. In-between he just barely manages to squeeze his textured tongue inside.

Repeating once. Twice. Thrice. So many times that you’ve lost count, and you’re barely in control of your own ministrations as a third hand stuffs between your pussylips and squeezes your neglected clit.

And then your overstimulation’s hitting you all at once. All at once.

And Sukuna realizes it before you do- when you’re shivering primally on top of him and cumming once more. Around his cocks. Around his mouth. It’s such a white-hot pleasure that bursts stars behind your eyelids, creating heat at the tips of your toes and then sending it searing through every vessel within you-  your body shakes in his hold as the dopamine courses right through you. 

His lips crack into a chuckle, and he’s cooing softly down at you as he ruts his hips even harder—fucking you through every peak. “Theeeeeere, there…” Something almost sweet- though you know better than to expect sweet from Ryomen Sukuna. “My poor human couldn’t handle it?”

“I-I can…” You’re arguing back- even though your answer sounds like nothing but a jumbled mess of syllables. The sheer force of the high that wracks through you is enough to make your head spin, thighs shake—fucked up, up, and up by his never-ending hips. 

And he can only smile, “Is that so…? Then perhaps my fierce concubine won’t mind if I just—speed up a little bit.”

Even more?

Your mouth drops as you’re perhaps getting ready to beg for mercy- before even the choked-up syllables at your throat start getting fucked back down by his roverin’ tips.

Rubbing their flared ridges across every spot of your insides, dribblin’ out gooey precum into the smallest nooks and crannies. You’re feeling the sultry slickness of it puddling up deep inside you, and it’s almost enough to send you raging right into another high-

“K-Kuna—!” Your voice cracks.

“I know, heh.” He snickers, deep and hoarse. “I can feel this pussy begging even more f’me.” A few more vicious strokes and you’re feeling another faint arc of pleasure that you’re sure must be your nth high of the night. 

Hard and fast.

Hitting through every one of your bundled nerves- but especially that g-spot he’d bruised by now. Two large circular marks in the exact shape and circumference of his bludgeoning tips - they were slapping at two separate times—one after the other. Ba-dump! Ba-dump! 

Except…this time, Sukuna’s own thickened cocks twitch inside of you as you’re clenchin’ through your high-

“And don’t you worry, brat…” He growls from behind, “This time, your husband’s not too far behind—”

Your eyes flutter open in pure shock- and one of his hands reaches down to tilt your chin to look at him. “Shit-”

“Say it f’me.” Sukuna rasps, “Say it- call me your husband while I cum inside.”

And who were you to deny an order from the King himself? 

The words are barely escaping your lips—“C-cum inside me, husband…”

Before the strongest sorcerer in history throws his head back and jerks his hips upwards- letting the pouring wads of his cum plug your pussy up twofold. What’s better than one of his cocks seeping deeply at your innards? Two of them…There are so many gooey wads of it trickling all deeeeep inside- splashin’ against the spongy layer of your cervix. Swashing down your tight channel.

You’re shuddering as you feel the delicious sensation of him sprayin’ inside you - a sheer volume that ends up frothin’ in-between your legs. A circle of white forms around both of Sukuna’s thick bases. “There we go-” He snarls. “There- there, we go…”

“Shit—it feels so, ngh…” You don’t even have the words. Your body quakes as his ridged tastebuds start tickling the outer parts of your pussy. Long, luscious licks - it’s enough to make you cum again.

“And this baby shall become my heir.” Sukuna whispers - mostly to himself than anything. He runs a hand down the sweat front of your body, left ever-so-slightly more inflated with his constantly-pumping cum. “This baby shall be taught to become the strongest. This baby shall be- hah, feared amongst the nation’s lands and beyond…” His fanged smile grows, “Known by my name, I shall teach this baby to protect its mother with their life.”

The fatness of his tongue dips between your swollen pussylips- lapping again and again. He’s torn between drinkin’ up and pushing back the pearly white beads of cum that kept on leaking from you.

And you’re merely draped limply over his front. Crushed to his powerful body. 

“And this baby’s gonna become the most precious thing in this- hah, estate…” You feel him press a kiss to your temple, “-alongside you, of course, Your Majesty.”

“Majesty…?”

“The Queen of Curses.”

For who could’ve tamed the infamous Ryomen Sukuna?

In no time, he’s finally fucked himself into your pussy through his high- and it’s a tangled mess of limbs and moans as Sukuna attempts to pull out. Before realizing that his cocks were probed in too deeply, before realizing that that would mean letting his pool of cum spread out of your cunt.

Losing all his hard work.

And so he sniffs haughtily, reaching one pair of his hands up into the air and clicking-

In a split-second, you’re finding your back against the pillows. As if in a dream, you’re blinking up to stare into Sukuna’s handsome face—two hands braced upon either side of your head, both cocks still shovelled deeply inside of you. Throbbing. Did he just…did he just use his powers to change-

“Yes.” He answers your unspoken question- of perhaps it had been spoken, you’re too drunk on his cocks to realize whether or not you’d blabbered it out loud. “I call it…teleporting.” 

“Th-that should be outlawed-” You’re gasping. The air around you felt tightened with what you assumed must be his cursed energy - you’d heard the stories about them. Who didn’t?

And he merely hums, “I am the law, woman.”

Without another word, one of his four hands snake between your legs- his cursed second mouth had finished up lappin’ at the coat of cum around your thighs. And he licks his lips and belches almost gluttonously once Sukuna reaches down to cup your pussy and—

“O-oh.” Something buzzes between your overstimulated legs. 

Almost as soon as it’d started, it’s over- and Sukuna pulls his hand away—and then his rugged cocks. Letting out the most lecherous sluuuuurp! as he’s reeling his hips away, rounded tips funnel out from between your pussylips and leaving such a-

Wait…your eyes widen. There was no mess - whatever technique that Sukuna had collected between your legs stopped his cum from leaking out.

And the King of Curses wastes no time waiting for your surprise to register- not before letting out a deep snicker. He straightens his bulky body n’ edges himself closer—and before you know it, you’re suddenly finding your head straddled by Sukuna’s meaty thighs.

His dual, furiously-hot erections slapping their shafts down onto your readied face.

Both fanged mouths grin, “Now…open, human.”

And you just knew he was about to make you take both.

A/N. DJSFHSJKHS-

Plagiarism not authorized.

[yanderedrabbles]

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐈 – 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬

Yᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ Oᴜᴛʟᴀᴡs Pʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜs Eɴᴛʀʏ | Nᴇxᴛ Eɴᴛʀʏ The days after your capture by a gang of outlaws are a blur of unfamiliar hands on your body, and hot kisses pressed against your neck. But some days stick out as far worse than others.

Tᴀɢs: male yandere x fem reader, noncon, period oral, age gap, 2.8k words

You almost never wake up in your own bed. And if you do, you almost never wake up alone.

The boss takes his time getting ready in the morning. Loading and checking his pistol, sharpening his knife, shaving. You mostly know him as a shadow — shark sleek as he moves through the dim pre-dawn light.

When it's time to wake you, he likes to run his hand up and down your bare thigh until you stir. He sits on the edge of the bed when he does it, smiling all crooked when you burrow into your pillow to avoid looking at him.

"Ain't getting all shy on me now, are you? You seemed plenty friendly last night, darlin',” he drawls.

He doesn't have an appetite for you in the mornings, or maybe he just controls himself better than the rest of the gang.

"I like to take my time with you," he tells you, "And there ain't much time when the suns up."

But that doesn't mean you can escape all his attention. He might slip a finger into you now and again, when he feels the urge. Your cunt flutters around his knuckles whenever his palm grinds against your clit, and you try to hide the way he makes your whole body tremble. No good. He always notices. 

He likes to pull away just as your body starts responding to him, smiling at you when you whine.

"Hunger left half satisfied is far worse than hunger untouched, didn't nobody tell you that, princess?" he'll ask, one hand still on your thigh.

You're never sure how to respond to him when he does that. Part of you wants him to finish what he's started, and part of you doesn't want to be touched at all. But the decision is never really up to you, is it?

He likes having you sleep naked. Your bare chest pressed against his, your ass warm and plush in his hands. He likes slipping his cock inside you right as you're drifting off, too. Likes the slight hitch in your breath, the way you're usually too far gone to squirm away.

You don't know it, but most mornings he'll wake up and just watch you. Head propped against his fist, his fingers tracing your cheekbone.

"You're too young for me, darlin'. Far too young. But you need a man to teach you about this world, and if your daddy ain't around no more... Well, I'll just have to do it myself."

The boss is a mystery to you. He’s as hard eyed and sinful as the devil, and you can never really tell what he’s thinking. When he calls you out to the stables one afternoon, your first thought is that you’ve somehow done something wrong — the air is hot and close, and it makes your neck crawl.

He's grooming his mustang when you enter, his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. He has a way of making the spaces around him seem small. It's in the way he holds his six shooter, in the set of his shoulders. That sense of authority that makes you want to duck your head and agree with whatever he tells you to.

You watch him for a while. The muscles in his forearms flex whenever he lifts the grooming brush to his horse’s neck. He's strong, you know it intimately. But it's still frightening to see the evidence of that strength.

He smiles when he notices you. His blue eyes run down your body and it's the same analytical, proprietary look he uses on his horses and his gold.

"Noticed you looking at the horses the other day, girl. Not thinking of runnin' out on us, are you?"

"No, sir." You shift, not quite able to meet his eyes. "I just miss home, that's all."

"Come here. Let me look at you."

You stop a foot or so away from him. He isn't as heavy handed as the gunslingers, isn't as terrifying in his anger as the second in command. But you're still afraid of him — more so than all the rest maybe. You feel like a little girl around him, like your father is calling you into his study after you went and did something stupid.

He takes your jaw in his palm, surprisingly gentle.

"I ain't surprised you miss home, girl. I reckon your life would've been a helluva lot easier if we didn't come around." He traces a thumb across your cheek, his riding gloves cool and soft. "But this is where you belong now, you understand?"

He makes you look into his eyes. That ocean blue so deep you can almost see shipwrecks at the bottom.

"You gonna try runnin’?"

Yes, yes. A thousand times yes.

"No, sir. Never."

"Liar," he says. "But I ain't a heartless man. You miss home, and if handlin’ the horses makes that ache go away then I'll let you have 'em."

You can’t help the jolt that shoots through you when he says that. You’re a rancher’s daughter, and all your best memories feature horses. Learning to ride with your pa, getting your first pony when you were a little girl…being around horses is as natural to you as breathing.

He hands you the grooming brush and steps aside. His mustang is a mean old mare the colour of smoke. When you run the brush down her flank she flicks her tail irritably.

“She’s beautiful,” you say.

“Hmm, I reckon I like my girls pretty.”

It doesn’t surprise you when his palms come to rest on your waist. Like all the other outlaws, the boss can’t seem to keep his hands off you for long.

“Did you break her yourself, sir?”

“Of course. Don’t do it much now, but back in the day I could break any horse you gave me.”

You don’t doubt him. Didn’t he break you in, in just an afternoon? 

Being near the horses makes you brave. As the silence lingers, you find yourself asking him questions without really meaning to.

“How long have you been an outlaw, sir?”

He laughs a little at that and squeezes your waist. “Decades, darlin’. From before you were born.”

“Why?”

“Money. Adventure. Reckon I just couldn’t keep myself honest.”

“Have you ever been married?”

“No. Could never get a girl to stick. And there ain’t ever been a girl I liked enough to keep.” He pauses, and then presses a light kiss against your neck. “Except for you, pretty girl. You’re the one I’ve been waitin’ for.”

“I don’t understand you at all, sir. Why me?” 

“You don’t see it?” 

“See what?”

He sighs and runs a hand down the mustang’s neck. “We’re an awful bunch of bastards, I know that much. But we’re still men, ain’t we?”

You’re not sure what he means by that, but he doesn’t give you the chance to ask again. He turns you to face him and drops his head to your neck. His stubble scrapes your skin right before he kisses you.

“You’ll understand someday, darlin’,” he says against your skin, “And I reckon you’ll hate us even more when you do.”

The outlaws each take care of you in their own way. Sometimes it's a cup of tea brewed on a cold day, or a knitted shawl in your favourite colour when the weather takes a turn.

Other times, it's a bit more...forceful. Your period is one of those times.

The first time you get it around them, it's the boss who notices. You're hurting and sore and miserable, and he sees it. You're curled in front of the fireplace in your room, clutching your belly like you've been shot.

He squats down next to your armchair and presses a hand to your forehead, and then to your neck. No fever, which is good. But you're all scrunched up, which isn't. This ain't the flinching, sharp pain that comes from being fucked too hard. Nor is it the slow, dull ache of a bad bruise.

"What happened, girl?"

He doesn't blame his boys for getting a little rough. Lord knows, he struggles with it himself. But there's miles of difference between playing hard and breaking the toys. If you're so torn up, he'll have to knock a bit of softness into them.

"It's nothing, sir."

Is it his imagination or are you avoiding his eyes even more than usual?

"Don't look like nothin' to me. Which one of 'em did this to you?"

There's a flash in your eyes then, a vindictive streak he hasn't seen before. Are you going to give him someone to blame? Lie straight through your teeth to get a little revenge?

For a second, he thinks that might just be the case. Well, well. Little vixen finding her claws at last, eh?

But it goes as quick as it comes, and you pull your knees closer to your chest.

"It's...it's that time of the month."

Your ears go a shade or two brighter than the rest of you, and your cheeks are quick to follow. You're embarrassed. Despite the fact that he’s fucked you and tasted you and heard every small noise you make when you come, you’re still ashamed of telling him.

He laughs, already reaching for your hips.

"Is that all, doll? A little ache deep inside you?"

He slides into an armchair and pulls you onto his lap, his chin in the crook of your shoulder. You smell like fresh washed linen, and underneath it, a scent that’s so totally and irrevocably you. He presses his palm flat against your belly and half wonders if his cock can reach that deep.

"How do you usually take care of it?"

"My ma used to make me this tea, with all kinds of herbs in it. But I can't remember what."

He hums quietly, thinking. Eventually, "I'll have the boys look around for you. Someone in town will know what you need, I’m sure."

He starts rubbing slow circles with his palm, still lost in thought. You hate to admit it, but his touch helps. It eases the clenched fist inside you.

You relax against him a little at a time. The hard muscles of his chest press up against your back, somehow comforting. Kind of how your father used to hold you when you were learning to ride. Safe and sound, doll. I've got you.

"Do you trust me, girl?"

You startle, not sure when you started to drift off. You try to sit up but he pulls you back with a grunt and a half hearted tug.

No, of course I don't trust you. You're a monster wearing the face of a man.

"Yes, sir. I trust you."

"You trust I'll take care of you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then let me touch you, doll, and I'll make it all better deep inside."

He reaches for the hem of your dress, tugging it up in his fist.

"But the blood—"

You can't hide the slight horror in your voice. Your period is a filthy thing, doesn't he know that? Something barely spoke of, even between girls. What is he trying to do?

"Sweetheart, I sure as hell ain't scared of a little blood."

He stands and slips you down onto the armchair, and then gets to his knees in front of you. Your dress is still in his fist and and another tug is all it takes to get it out the way.

“Blood has been my business since I was a boy, darlin’. I don’t mind it one bit.”

He wraps his palm around your thigh and hooks your leg over his shoulder.

"No, wait—"

He doesn't. Of course he doesn’t. He leans down and shifts your knickers to the side before slipping his tongue down the slit of your cunt. He moves too fast for you to stop him.

You gasp, your nails digging into the armchair. Are you always this sensitive? Or does bleeding make it worse? His tongue catches on your clit and he gives it a slow, teasing lick.

"There, not complainin' now, are you?" he murmurs against your inner thigh, nipping your skin before refocusing on your pussy. His stubble scrapes your mound and makes shivers race down your spine.

You can't answer him —  not when he sucks on your clit and presses two fingers at your entrance. Feeling him touching you so low is enough to make you jump. You try to shove him away, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair. 

But then he pushes his fingers inside you and you damn near see stars.

He laughs a little at that, his warm breath ghosting over you.

"Just let me fix you up, doll. That's what a good father does, ain't it? And you're sure as hell my little girl by now."

You only half register him talking. It's true — you're hellishly sensitive. His fingers dragging out of you sends sparks all the way to your toes.

He curls an arm around your lower back and half lifts you closer to his face, his nose grinding against your clit. He's got his focus all on you now, those storm eyes latched onto the way you twist and turn. You want this, deep down, no matter how hard you try and deny it. You can scratch like a cat when you have to, but a little bit of cock — just a few fingers inside you — and you go all sweet for him. What else can he call that, besides wanting it?

Your cunt is slick with blood, burning so hot you make his whole hand feel feverish. Fuck. What would you feel like on his cock?

"Probably like a goddamn furnace," he says to himself. You're too far gone to answer him.

The taste doesn't bother him none. He's swallowed plenty of blood in his life, and it sure as hell never came with a pretty, moaning girl in the bargain. Your thighs are shaking, a little tremor in the muscles that you can't control or stop. It makes him feel stupid smug.

Eating her so good she can't even fight it.

He can tell you're getting close, can read it in your face. The way you have your eyes scrunched shut, the way you bite your lip to keep it all inside. No. No, that won't do at all. He deserves to see it when you come undone. Deserves to see the light and lust and longing in your expression.

"Look at me, little girl."

He barely recognises his own voice. It's low and thick, like his words are scraping over desert rock just to make it out his mouth.

Look what you do to me, girl. Got me sounding like a goddamn animal.

You open your eyes as quickly as if he slapped you. And oh, what a thing to see. Horror, yes. At what's being done to you, at the way it's being done. But something under that. Interest, maybe.

Your hands are still in his hair, and you let one drift down his cheek. Rub at his jaw with your thumb.

"You...there's blood on you, sir."

He closes his eyes for a second and tilts his head just a little into your palm.

Oh darlin', you'd soften the devil with the way you talk.

"That's fine," he says in that animal voice, "Just fine with me."

He curls his fingers inside you, and that's all it takes. You tighten up around him in pulses, a heartbeat to match his own. Your face twists up all pretty — in pain almost. You pull in a sharp breath that catches in your lungs.

He watches it happen, the animal inside him snarling like a dog.

Pretty girl. My pretty little girl. Too far gone now, darlin’. I've got your blood inside me, your tears, your cum. Can't let you go. Can’t ever let you go.

He doesn't let you go, not even when it's over and you're draped bonelessly against the armchair, weak and spent.

"Does it still hurt, darlin'?"

You blink at him, and he can tell your mind is far, far from here.

"No," you say absently, "Not like it used to."

He isn't entirely sure you're talking about the cramps.

"Good. Reckon we figured out a damn good cure to the bleedin’ blues, huh?"

He smiles and kisses your inner thigh. How many days do you bleed for? Three? Five? He'll just have to keep checking on you until it's all over. Can't have his girl hurting deep inside, not when he has a cock to scratch that itch.

And besides, he stole you from your home. From the pa who had the right to give you away, who didn't get to pass on that responsibility. 'Spose that makes you his little girl now. His to take care of, the way only a father can.

He reaches for his belt, that animal inside him smiling real big.

"But I reckon we try a few more home remedies. Just to be sure."